Task Force
by Tess DiCorsi
Summary: Post season nine where almost everyone survived (including the Kensi-Deeks engagement). Almost everyone still works at OSP in their current positions with one big exception. Multi-chapter story.
1. Leave

**TITLE** : "Task Force"  
 **AUTHOR** : Tess  
 **RATING** : T (adult language, violent situations)

DISCLAIMER: I do not own characters related to the program. I'd change some of them if I did. Hence, fanfiction.

* * *

"It is so hard to leave—until you leave. And then it is the easiest goddamned thing in the world."

― John Green, Paper Towns  


* * *

 **Chapter One**

"It is so hard to leave—until you leave. And then it is the easiest goddamned thing in the world." ― John Green, Paper Towns

January 19, 2019

Bates's text came in just as he was peeling off his wetsuit. The surf was good today - it had been for a few weeks. He was on a short leave - eight weeks with tweakers is exhausting for a regular undercover job, eight weeks with tweakers who were sons of celebrities or billionaire businessmen - that presented a totally different set of problems. A bunch of entitled spoiled brats who thought becoming the cancer-free Walter White was a good career plan was his last assignment. The tweaker brats forgot the part where Walter White made the stuff and didn't use. They also forgot that things ended badly for Walter. Now he had the families of five of the six "Breaking Bad" wannabes providing him with access and intelligence as he needs it. The sixth was going to jail because he was too stupid to understand just how much tape they had on him. But his lawyer would know and there would be an even more punitive deal to be had.

Kensi was due back later that day. She and Nell were part of women in the DoD meetings the SecNav was holding. Kensi's whitewashed Afghanistan timeline - the real reason she was there and the lies told were not going to be discussed – and her recovery from her spinal cord injuries along with Nell's move from intelligence analyst to field agent were of great interest to the SecNav The SecNav was highlighting the achievements and accomplishments of and opportunities for female agents in a DC symposium.

Kensi sent a picture of Nell jumping on the bed of the junior suite both she and Kensi were upgraded to after they stopped a purse snatching in the hotel lobby – yet another achievement for the two. He sent them a YouTube video of "Electra Woman and Dyna Girl" - now he was going to find the two of them tee shirts. An old snitch who cleaned up his act was working at Comics Ink. If anyone could find it, it would be old snitch Aaron.

Bates's door was opened as Deeks walked down the hall. Since it was Saturday, he figured his board shorts, Nike hoodie and Teva sandals wouldn't get him in too much trouble. Well that and he was on leave. Bates was leaning on the front side of his desk in front of his guest chairs in jeans, a checked shirt and a sports coat. "They're waiting for you in the conference room," he said, pointing down the hall. "We'll talk when you're done."

"They?"

"You're not in trouble. It will be your call."

"They?"

"Yes, they. And they are still waiting." Bates stood straight and made his way to the business side of his desk. "And then I'll be waiting."

Deeks hated surprises. He was good at them - undercover work is constant improvising - but he was just in the ocean and happy. Now he had a surprise. Opening the conference room door, he saw Leon Vance standing at window on the far side of the table with a seated grey-haired man between them.

"Has anything happened to Kensi?" Deeks asked.

The grey-haired man put his hand out as Vance took a fifty out of this wallet. Vance looked at Deeks and said, "Ms. Blye and Ms. Jones are fine and on their way home." Vance showed Deeks a flight tracker on his iPad. "They just crossed into Oklahoma air space."

Deeks stared at the two men. "And you had money on that?"

"The Director thought your boss would brief you as to what was going on here. I thought he'd keep his word and let us talk to you first. I won." The second man showed Deeks the half C-note before putting it in his sports coat pocket - the weekend's must have fashion item for the over-fifty set.

"And you would be?"

"Gibbs," the grey-haired man said standing up and extending his hand across the conference room table. "NCIS."

"You're Callen's friend," Deeks said as he shook Gibbs's hand, finally having a face to go with the name and a few stories. "Marty Deeks."

"Callen and I had a lot of fun in Russia back in the day." Gibbs pointed to a seat across from himself and the Director. While Vance remained standing, Gibbs sat.

"Fun's not a term I'd use with the Russians I've encountered but that's me," Deeks said as he sat. "So if Kensi is fine, Director Vance and Special Agent Gibbs, whatever would you need from a lowly local LEO like me."

"I think we all know you're a whole lot more than a lowly local LEO, Deeks," Vance chuckled, finally taking his seat. "I'm hearing good things about this new division you're running."

"More squad than division right now but it's a good team."

Vance nodded. "You were part of a good team before."

"They're all great agents and amazing people but you hardly need to hear that from me. So, gentlemen, why are we here?"

Gibbs opened a file folder. "There was another good team. You worked on the Flores Task Force in 2009."

"Six weeks in late September to early November."

"What can you tell me about it?" Gibbs asked.

Deeks pointed to the file folder. "What does the file say?"

"You were a last minute addition to the case. AUSA Fitzgerald pulled out a pair of undercover operatives she was worried were made. She sent you in. You infiltrated a gallery in the Meatpacking District in New York. You were able to plant cameras and mikes, discovered bills of lading and other key pieces of evidence supporting her belief that the gallery's art sales were secondary to their drug trafficking business. The drug business was funding a terror network. When your time undercover was done, AUSA Fitzgerald saw you were a lawyer and had you working on making sure the case was airtight."

"Genevieve likes having fresh eyes look at her cases. The case went on for nearly two years; the indictments had a number of moving parts and most were going to piss off the State Department, big time. As long as all her ducks are in a row - her favorite quote - she enjoys pissing off other government agencies. When she wins, they're afraid of her. And since she usually wins, they're all afraid of her."

"With reason," Gibbs agreed.

"I wound up staying an extra three weeks putting in long days. Worked out perfectly. She announced the indictments on the Tuesday before the World Series and she took those of us working the legal end of the case to that crazy box she has at Yankee Stadium for game two of the Series. Saw Jay-Z and Alicia Keys sing "New York State of Mind" then John Legend performed the National Anthem and Genevieve swore like a sailor at Pedro Martinez as long as he was in the game. The swearing part was nearly as entertaining as the game." Deeks enjoyed that particular memory.

"She's requesting you join a task force she's been running for the last few years. She believes she has solid cases in New York, Miami and Napa. She is doing the final stages of this in Los Angeles. She's interested in you and Agent Hanna in particular, Agents Blye, Jones and Callen will have roles in the case as well," Gibbs told him.

"Is there any reason Genevieve isn't here right now? She tends to be a little hands on," Deeks decided to go with an understatement.

"That's one way to put it," Gibbs said, appreciating his understatement. "AUSA Fitzgerald had every intention of speaking with you here today alone. She was delayed getting out here. She asked me to fill in for her."

"You're based in Washington. 3,000 miles to fill in? And where is she flying in from, Mars?"

"AUSA Fitzgerald's location is classified. As for me. I have a small role with the task force that I can do anywhere. I had a weekend's worth of work that I could do on a DoD flight here and back as easily as I could do it at home. Besides, I have family in Baja. Spending the day in Los Angeles for the task force, visiting family Sunday and Monday."

"And you, Director? Are you part of the task force too?" Deeks never really thought of Vance as anything but a guy running the show.

"My daughter is looking at colleges. We were coming out here this weekend anyway."

"I can highly recommend Loyola and Pepperdine from personal experience."

"I'd prefer Kayla's college experience be a little closer to home. Georgetown, GWU, UVa in a pinch. But that's not why I'm here right now. When Director Fitzgerald put in the request to work with Special Projects, she told me she was working to bring you on board. Since I wasn't satisfied with my conversations with you, Agents Blye, Callen, Hanna and Jones last summer and could get nothing from Henrietta or Shay, I thought I'd see if time has given you some prospective as to why you left NCIS."

"I didn't leave. I was fired," Deeks answered bluntly.

"Not really, you were Hetty's hire," Vance said.

"And I was EAD Mosley's firing. Twice. Her first act running OSP was to send me back to LAPD and my final act with NCIS was to return to LAPD per her orders."

"Lieutenant," Vance did not seem happy with Deeks's semantics.

Deeks wasn't interested in placating Vance. "She had me removed from the office and driven home by Agents Harris and Castro. I really could not imagine a more humiliating end to my NCIS liaison career." Deeks left out the fight with Kensi. He's sure that's immortalized on some security camera DVD for posterity.

"Shay was out of line," Vance said.

"Generous assessment." Deeks turned to Gibbs. "Have you ever had two agents forcibly remove a staffer from the office after the staffer pointed out illegal behavior?"

Gibbs thought for a second and for effect. "No. Can't say I have."

"She was way out of line. We can all agree on that," Vance offered.

"Can we?" Deeks asked. "Where does she go from 'out of line' to 'way out of line'? When she beat and water boarded a prisoner she removed from NCIS's custody to her own custody? When she ordered Kensi and I to report the prisoner's injuries as minor scrapes due that happened while he was being re-apprehended? A fictional re-apprehension since the plan was to cover her personal time with the prisoner as an escape. Or was it when we were kept in the dark as to her personal interest in the prisoner?"

"EAD Mosley did not handle the situation as she should have."

"And since she's still an Executive Assistant Director and she's still running the Office of Special Projects, your take on how she handled the situation has been duly noted." Deeks was not interested in relitigating last spring.

"She was suspended for six months," Gibbs noted.

"Which conveniently was the time she was just getting her son resettled in Los Angeles," Deeks told him. "Here at LAPD, we call that parental leave."

Deeks watched Vance take a deep breath. This was not going the way Vance planned. Good. "She has her son back because of you," Vance said. "Callen, Blye and Hanna all said it was your plan that lead to her son being rescued."

"Hetty offered me an opportunity to finish what I stared when I was fired. I was actually sitting at my cleaned-out desk working with Kensi on possible scenarios to get into the compound where the child was being held when EAD Mosley arrived with two agents to forcibly remove me from the office. Fortunately, Callen, Sam and Kensi were on board with my return when we left for Mexico. After everyone recovered from their injuries, LAPD was interested in my return to work on a corruption case. Hetty always said my work at LAPD took priority. Not that it matters with me being fired and all."

"And that slight was worth walking away from a unit you spent nearly a decade with?"

"I wasn't slighted, I was fired. I was dismissed after objecting to a suspect being beaten and was then was forced to leave by two agents assigned by the woman who beat the suspect. And I did. After my LAPD case cleaned up some corruption here, Roger Bates was promoted to Captain. I made Lieutenant. For years, LAPD's Intelligence Bureau was weak compared to what they have in other large cities like New York. After former Chief Bratton returned to New York, a few of the deputy chiefs here wanted to upgrade what we were doing. I was offered my own team, the ability to recruit from other divisions, hire from other departments and agencies with a decent sized budget. I was grateful for my time at NCIS but I had been returned to LAPD."

"Which is pretty much word for word what's in your letter of resignation," Vance told him.

"Not a letter of resignation. I was fired, remember?" Deeks was not letting Vance paper over what happened. Vance was going to get the truth. Deeks had his issues with OSP and NCIS but he still cared deeply for the people in that office. "The letter I sent was for my liaison file, telling the next person who has that position what a great team we all made. And since it's the truth, I don't understand what you're looking for, Director."

"Before the Director," Gibbs said as he gave Vance a look, "revisits your exit interview again and you continue to provide answers that annoy him, AUSA Fitzgerald wants to be sure if she's adding you to the task force she's running, you can work with OSP."

"Since I worked with them last week, I see no problems here."

"You worked with them last week?" Obviously, this was news to Vance.

"Nothing too tough, Director. I'm just local law enforcement again so not much is expected."

"Lieutenant," Vance was not having it.

"NCIS had a case where a college student, and she seemed more 16 than 19, was supposed to meet one of OSP's targets at the bleachers of Drake."

"The track near UCLA," Gibbs said.

"Not a school I'd recommend, Director Vance though Agent Gibbs seems to know about it. It was late in the day. Callen was working trash pick-up," Deeks said with a smile. Seems since he was gone, Callen was back on sanitation assignments. "Kensi was playing trainer to lazy grad student Nell. Sam was running up and down the bleachers."

"And you."

"I do homeless better than anyone. As it got darker, Callen's time picking up trash was getting limited. I hunkered down for the SoCal nap on the bleacher bench right by the entrance the target had to use to see the co-ed. The plan was for me to hit the target with the Overwatch spray while I did some panhandling when he passed by."

"So the local stranger who wouldn't leave his name after he stopped the target from abducting Miss Rivers was you."

"I'm running a new and improved unit at LAPD with a non-salary budget that is probably a low end of what Hetty spends every year on cars alone. Now if I call and need help with something, and I'll only call if I really need help with something important, I have an OSP favor in my back pocket. Everybody wins."

"Especially the girl nearly dragged away by OSP's suspect," Gibbs said. "So you'll give AUSA Fitzgerald's invitation some thought."

"Of course," Deeks told him. It would also likely mean a nice DoJ grant to his LAPD team for his time spent on the task force. Genevieve was good about taking care of her charges. That would help with the upgrades he wants in the comms system. Since taking over this assignment, he'd done as much budgeting as when he was trying to figure out how to pay for law school and live indoors.

"Now that you've agreed to consider Ms. Fitzgerald's task force, I have some questions."

"I don't know what more I can tell you, Director. I had an opportunity and I took it. I'm grateful for everything NCIS offered me but once I was fired it was time to move on."

"Queen for a day."

"Excuse me?"

"Queen for a day. You were an attorney. And as an attorney, surely you're familiar with a queen for a day proffer."

"I still am an attorney. And I did a number of them as a public defender. Here's the problem, Director. I've done nothing wrong and you don't have anything you can offer me."

"Department of Homeland Security grant request 1642.2019." Vance pushed a file folder across the conference room table towards Deeks.

Deeks frowned, looking at the file. "That's my request for money to improve our comm systems here. I got spoiled at NCIS."

"NCIS can give you our comm system for some insight to why you walked away from OSP. Tell me the truth, Lieutenant, and you can use that Homeland grant for other things."

Deeks thought for a moment. "I get the money for the latest comms, not some recycled gear NCIS is phasing out. Straight cash homey."

"Agreed," Vance said. "You answer my questions about why you left and you will have the money for the comms."

"And everything I say stays here. No retribution for anyone connected to NCIS or LAPD. This is just trading information. This comes back to hurt any of them and I'll make it clear to any agency I work with going forward that NCIS does not does not keep their promises."

Now it was Vance's turn to think. "One lie and we're done."

"Queen for a day," Deeks leaned back in his chair and relaxed, "ask away. And since we're not lying, I did not walk away from NCIS. I was fired."

"How long were you considering leaving NCIS before you went back to LAPD?" Vance started.

"I didn't leave NCIS. I was fired," Deeks planned on hitting that one every chance he got.

"Noted," Vance sighed. "Prior to your dismissal, did you plan on leaving your liaison position with NCIS?"

"I thought about leaving NCIS and LAPD for that matter right after I was tortured. I wasn't in a good place after that. I offered to return to LAPD full-time when Agent Blye was sent to Afghanistan - though I didn't know where she was just then, only that she was sent away. The two of us were having issues at the time and I felt responsible for her being reassigned."

"Not sure why you would," Vance noted.

"Nobody told me otherwise. It's been over a five years honestly, nobody still has told me that Kensi being reassigned wasn't my fault."

"Do you need to hear that?" Gibbs asked.

"I told Hetty I would return to LAPD so Kensi could return. Hetty told me she had all the information she needed before I was sent out in the field and never said another thing about why Kensi was gone. So yeah, maybe I needed to hear that. Chicken soup...it couldn't hurt," Deeks tried to joke and failed miserably. "But the first time I wanted out was after the torture. I told Sam Hanna that in the hospital. He thought it was a mistake but at the time, I was a mess."

"Understandable," Vance said.

Deeks chuckled. "Depends on who is doing the understanding."

"I'm sorry?" Vance was confused.

"I had some issues after the torture. After I was done with the dentist and was physically stronger, I was still in kind of a bad place in my head."

"Again, understandable," Vance said.

"For some. I got a shape up or ship out surprise visit from Hetty. And by surprise, I mean she broke into my apartment and hid behind the curtains because I wasn't taking anyone's calls. Scared the hell out of me at a time when I really didn't need to be made anymore jumpy."

"She got you back to work," Vance offered as a defense.

"Talks with Nate and Kensi got me back along with Hetty's threat of someone else working with Kensi. After two days back, Callen planned on sending me home because I wasn't ready to be in the field."

"I wasn't made aware of that," Vance told him.

"Of course not. Someone would have to be wrong if I was put out in the field too soon. And if you want to talk about being in the field too soon, Travis from IT was sent to the hospital with my car, a gun from the armory, my go bag with a change of clothes and directions to where the team was the day I was tortured. I'm loaded up on painkillers and spectacular memories of Sidorov and his stooge with a handheld drill named Andros drilling out my back teeth. Wasn't I the perfect choice to be handed the keys to my truck and a backup weapon with implicit orders to go after them?"

"Agent Hanna killed Sidorov," Vance said.

"He did. And I ended Andros, the stooge with the drill," Deeks told him blandly. "He had a gun on Kensi and Sam. Michelle was being held by Sidorov. It was a good shoot, lucky for all of us."

"You probably shouldn't have been there," Gibbs said.

"Skip probably and I'd agree."

Vance looked at his notes. "The DoD investigation. You weren't questioned."

"I'm not NCIS. The whole local LEO thing," Deeks shrugged his shoulders. "I'm really not worth the effort."

"Their mistake," Vance said sharply. "What's your opinion on what happened to Hetty?"

"The threats to her life were outrageous. Draeger tried to abduct to her 2010 and a couple of days later nearly got Kensi killed. He killed poor Dennis from accounting whose sole mistake that day was getting some FroYo from Sparky's as an afternoon treat."

"What about the subject of the DoD's investigation?"

"Kensi's assignment?"

"Yes."

"There are a lot of questions Hetty has chosen not to answer. Since I don't know what her answers are, I really don't know what..."

"Do you think Agent Blye should have been sent to Afghanistan?"

"With the information she was given for the assignment and with the information Hetty held back, no."

"You think Hetty should have told her about Jack Simon."

Deeks took a deep breath. He had to answer this properly or he'd sound like the asshole boyfriend. "Yes. She should have been told. So should have Assistant Director Granger, Agents Callen and Hanna and me. Probably Nell too since she was Kensi's main contact during her time over there. That part of the world is difficult to navigate when you know everything that's going on."

"How do you think you could have helped her?"

"I don't know. I was being kept from her. As were Agents Callen and Hanna. And from what Kensi told me, all but one other female staffer, including the Special Agent in Charge, were all transferred out. The female left was a civilian translator and the daughter of diplomat who got her moved from the NCIS truck to barracks in Camp Chapman after the NCIS field truck's heat failed. Kensi was the only female there most the time, surrounded by men she didn't like or didn't trust or both. Hetty's own little sociology experiment."

"Do you believe that?" Vance asked.

"I believe Kensi was thousands of miles from home, alone a lot of the time or surrounded by suspicious people. I can't imagine what Kensi felt when she saw her ex-fiancé, a man she last saw in 2005 just before he abandoned her at Christmas, through her rifle sight scope. Especially since she was sent to kill him as a traitor. Jack was a hero Marine, just like her murdered father, and now she was sent to kill him because he was a traitor. Who exactly was she going to talk to about this?"

"Have you asked?"

"Director Vance, I'll answer any questions you want about my time with NCIS but my conversations with Agent Blye about her feelings, as limited as they've been over the last ten years, are none of your damn business."

"You're engaged to Agent Blye. You're living together."

"I am and I'd like to keep it that way so it is still none of your business."

"You're angry."

"I really try not to do angry but what happened to Kensi, being sent away, being sent to kill the man she thought she'd marry at one time, the man who abandoned her to become what she was told a traitor – a man who killed Marines. Yeah, I have an issue or two with that."

"Do you blame Hetty for what happened to Agent Blye?"

"I blame the men who beat and tortured her."

"That's a great non-answer," Agent Gibbs said. "Try it this way: who do you blame for Agent Blye being in Afghanistan."

Deeks looked down and took a deep breath. "Lieutenant?" he heard Director Vance push.

And so he'd push back. Looking Leon Vance straight in the eye, Deeks said, "Honesty, sir, I blame you."

"Excuse me."

"Oh, this should be good," Gibbs muttered and he leaned back in his seat. There was more than a hint of a smile.

Vance was stunned. "You blame..."

"I blame you for the fact that Hetty was given such free reign. I blame you for sending out Owen Granger, who when he arrived was such a genuinely dislikeable man. It took years to figure out that under all that was one of the most decent men I ever met but Granger was very bad at first impressions. Second and third ones weren't his long suit either. At the time Kensi was sent away, it was very easy for the staff to pick whatever side wasn't Granger's. That was usually Hetty's."

"So my sending Granger out is the reason you blame me."

Deeks couldn't decide if Vance was going to walk out or hit him. "No. You set up a world where Hetty has no fear of retribution."

"They are classified but those congressional hearings were rough."

"I'm thinking when she was with the Taliban, Kensi wasn't held in the Four Seasons and dining at the Palm with her political or military buddies. And rescuing her was brutal for Callen and Sam. Granger too. For as big a prick as Owen Granger could be from time to time, he was on that hill near the Pakistan border, about to die trying to rescue Kensi with Callen and Sam."

"You saved them."

"No. I ran a successful trade, nothing more. Everyone was saved when Kensi walked back to the helicopter."

Vance looked at Deeks. "I don't understand."

"Somehow Callen and Sam survive that firefight on the hill but Kensi dies. You know the two of them. A big part of Sam dies right there in Afghanistan. When I was with that team, everyone had a role. Me, I was comic relief. Sam, however, was the protector. His code, his credo, his reason for being is keeping everyone - his family, his team, his country - safe. Kensi's all of those in one package. She is killed. He almost saves her but she comes home in a box and that will damn near mortally wound the part of Sam that makes him Sam. He carries on only to lose his wife a few years later. That's the end of Sam. He's got wounds that never close and he'll die trying to save the next person he needs to rescue because he didn't do the same for Kensi first and Michele later. Maybe he doesn't survive the attack on the SUV in Mexico because his last act was saving a child. An honorable final deed."

"Callen?" Gibbs asked.

"Callen had a sister who died when she was a little girl," Deeks noticed a small slip on Gibbs's cocky-cool agent game face. "Do you honestly think he'd survive another death like that? The people who Callen has allowed to be close to him - they're family and Kensi for years was that little sister he never had. So she's killed and he'd be gone. It would just confirm every one of life's lessons to him - don't love people. They don't last. And he lone wolf-s himself into the next thirty years. And you can add how well that would go for Sam with Kensi, Callen and then Michelle gone."

Vance nodded almost in agreement. "And you?"

"Oh, I'm not the eat your gun type. Nah. I'd do something stupid - run into traffic after a suspect but forget to look because I was distracted. Try a jump in a rooftop chase that I wouldn't have a chance in hell of making. Push a mark just a little too far," Deeks shrugged his shoulder. "And that's the best case scenario for me. For a while, it looked like I was going to be the only one flying back because I'm bringing Kensi, Callen, Sam and Granger home in coffins," Deeks sighed and shook his head. "She saved us. Every last one."

"Where is Ms. Blye on this?"

"You can ask her. I like my life and that includes not speaking for the most important person in it. She walked back. Tortured, beaten, betrayed by someone she trusted."

"She doesn't blame Hetty."

"No she doesn't." Deeks just looked at Vance. "And neither do I."

"But you're involved with Agent Blye," Gibbs noted. "Why wouldn't you want to keep working with her?"

"I was fired, remember," Deeks told Vance. "We keep going over this but you keep forgetting. I was fired."

"Lieutenant," Vance was growing weary. Good.

"Well, my last case with NCIS as a fired liaison officer got a lot of positive attention for LAPD. Internal Affairs was notified immediately when Mosley had me frog marched from the Mission. After returning a stolen child and taking down a gunrunning ring operating under the auspicious of a Mexican official, IA wanted me to work a case for them. After that ended well, LAPD wasn't so sure they wanted their 'hero cop' as the LA Times called me working for an outside agency that fired me. I got the promotion to Lieutenant and the money that came with it."

"Hetty offered you a similar pay increase if you joined NCIS full-time," Vance said. "And your time with NCIS would have been part of your time spent as a federal agent in both seniority and pension."

"Yeah, she also promised me I wouldn't be moved from LA or be an Agent Afloat," Deeks added.

"She wasn't authorized to make those promises," Vance told him.

"Thank you for confirming that. I figured that was true but my guess is she knew there would be no consequences if I took her up on those promises. Why would she think there'd be any?" Deeks asked.

Vance was not pleased. "You were never anything less than direct, Lieutenant. It may be why you're such a loss to this agency. AUSA Fitzgerald will need your answer today. She expects to brief NCIS at the boat shed at 2PM." Vance fished an envelope out of his jacket pocket. "This is the offer from her unit. Bring it with you this afternoon. She'll likely have questions if you don't have your own."

"She always has questions."

"Yes she does, Lieutenant."

Gibbs started packing his files. "If you're not interested, tell me now. I can call Genevieve, I think she's flying in right now but I can leave a message. If you're not doing this, she and I will need to find your replacement soon."

"I want to talk to my boss, AUSA Fitzgerald and Kensi before I decide but as it stands now, I want in. I just need to make sure everyone else is fine with the arrangement."

"Of course." Gibbs stood and offered Deeks his hand. "Good meeting you, Lieutenant."

"Same here," Deeks shook Gibbs's hand, then Vance's as he stood to leave. He had to talk to Bates...and Kensi. But mostly he had to figure out if he could do this. He had a couple of hours to figure out if he was going back.

"Oh, Deeks," Gibbs called to him just as he walked to the door. "You were not the reason Agent Blye was sent to Afghanistan. You were not the reason the person with the pertinent information kept it from her. You were not the reason what happened to her occurred. And you were right to complain about EAD Mosley's treatment of her suspect as both an officer of the court and as a member of the LAPD."

Deeks turned and looked at Gibbs, the Vance. "Thank you, Agent Gibbs. You're the first person connected with NCIS who ever told me that. And Director Vance, that's probably your answer to why I didn't return to NCIS after I was fired. I'll expect the grant money when my time with this task force is over. Enjoy your West Coast is the best coast weekend."

Deeks made his way down to Bates office. His boss had his feet up on the desk as he read a file. "You could have told me NCIS was in there," Deeks said as he plopped into one of Bates's guest chairs.

"What, and lose money?" Bates said with a smile.

A knock on the door had Gibbs walking in with an envelope for Bates. "Always good to see you, Roger."

"Same here, Jethro. If you're hanging around, we should grab a bite for dinner, catch up."

"Next time out," Gibbs said as he started to leave. "Got plans for tonight."

"Jethro?" A stunned Deeks asked after Gibbs left.

Bates opened the envelope and showed Deeks a twenty and a five. "Small world. Gunny Leroy Jethro Gibbs USMC worked security when I was in the Gulf. Best damn sniper the Marines had. He bet his boss the first words out of your mouth would be about Kensi. Boss didn't think I'd keep quiet about who was in the conference room."

"So do I get a cut?"

Bates tossed him the five-dollar bill.

"Ten percent?"

"Kid, the horses at Santa Anita don't get a dime."

Deeks pocketed the money. "So I'm a horse now?"

"Genevieve Fitzgerald thinks you're a thoroughbred."

"You could have told me that too."

"Don't want you to feel any pressure to participate in her investigation," Bates told him. "Her stuff is dangerous. Very dangerous. And she wasn't wrong when she brought you to New York. Her undercover operatives were made. She dummied up that car wreck the day after you arrived and got them out alive. She had that gallery manager on tape arranging a hit."

"I remember."

"But you're in."

"I am."

"Even though you're working with your ex-agency."

"They're my friends..."

"Some more friendly than others," Bates said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Really?" Deeks smiled. "I have no hard feelings and we'll all be working for Genevieve anyway."

"And you'll get your comms."

"Already got 'em. NCIS wanted something from me and I made a deal."

"Anything I should know about."

"Nothing to do with LAPD. About why I wouldn't return to NCIS."

"And give all this up?" Bates joked. "Call me tonight with how long you're going to be gone. You technically still have another week off. And I'm going to have to find a babysitter for Bernhart and Del Campo."

"They're in with the burglary crew. She's jacked a couple of planted cars while Bernhart is doing his white van, fake cleaning service/caterer/pool boy work in houses we've set up to be robbed."

"And Tommy Rey's crew is impressed. They're in. They just need to stop stealing things we've arranged and do a job with Tommy. Bower is due back Monday. He can supervise the case while I'm out."

"You need a partner, kid. You hired away two, took Bernhart for some reason and have that kid from the Legal Bureau who wants to be you when he grows up but you're still working alone."

"I always worked alone."

"Not when you were at NCIS you didn't."

"That was then, this is now." And she still wants to be at NCIS, he added silently, so I'll be partner-free until then.

"End of the fiscal year, you're going to either need a partner or they'll eliminate the position. Start auditioning when you're done with AUSA Fitzgerald."

"Yes sir."

"I'm going to brunch."

"No insult intended sir but you don't seem like a brunch guy."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Bates said as he stood. Deeks joined him as they walked to the elevator. "Things we do for love. Call me tonight."

"Yes sir." Deeks planned an early call. Kensi had been gone too long.

* * *

Annoying author notes: As with prior summers (except last year), I hope to post every Sunday. Hope being the key word - I'm at the mercy of my ride home from the beach and the wifi at assorted establishments on the way home.

Harley is not going to be mentioned here. I liked Harley a lot and I'm hoping she's alive so I can't bring myself to write her any other way.


	2. Coming Back

**Chapter Two** : "Coming back is the thing that enables you to see how all the dots in your life are connected, how one decision leads you another, how one twist of fate, good or bad, brings you to a door that later takes you to another door, which aided by several detours-long hallways and unforeseen stairwells-eventually puts you in the place you are now." - Ann Patchett, "What Now?"

* * *

Deeks took Genevieve's offer letter and his motorcycle to the boat shed. Yes it was a childish act of defiance but he felt he earned it. Pulling into the parking lot, he saw a Maybach and Sam's latest muscle car.

Deeks walked in from the parking lot, entering the boat shed door he walked through a thousand times. "Hey kids, don't say you started the party without me."

Callen and Sam were just standing up from the big room's table. Sam, as always, was closer to the door. He gave Deeks a big hug. "Good to see you man, what are you doing here?"

Deeks turned to Callen who had an extended hand. "What _are_ you doing here?" Callen asked in a more serious tone as Deeks shook his hand.

Deeks pulled out Genevieve's envelope. "Got my golden ticket to the Wonka Chocolate Factory."

"Do you know what's going on?" Sam asked.

"Rarely," Deeks joked. "I was asked to be part of this new joint task force and to show up here for a 2PM briefing. LAPD in the house."

"How is that going?" Callen asked Deeks. "Being back downtown? Being in charge?"

"Good. Weird. I spent years here saying 'on it' or 'done' when you were doling out assignments. Now I'm doing the doling and everyone else is saying 'on it' or 'done'."

Sam laughed. "Bernhart and Talia don't seem like the 'done'-types all of the time."

"You kind of give Matthew more emphatic recommendations than actual orders but he knows where I'm coming from so we're good. Talia is three-years away from leaving the DEA with a full pension in place when she hits retirement age. She puts in that time with LAPD as a liaison officer and she's there. After that disaster with her partner, she was either being shipped to Southeast Asia or South America or she was given an administrative role in some ongoing investigations here at home. After everything that's happened to her, working with LAPD seemed like the best solution for everyone."

"The Deeks solution," Sam teased.

"Something like that," Deeks agreed.

"And she gets to stay close to home," Callen said.

"She's got a younger sister who had a kid a couple of years ago. She likes being Auntie Talia on a more full-time basis."

"How is she working out with Bernhart?" Sam asked with a bit of a smirk. "Oil and water?"

"Nah, cookies and milk, PB and J and I'm figuring at some point, love and marriage." Deeks chuckled.

Callen shook his head, pulled out his wallet and handed Sam a twenty.

"Am I the only person not enjoying the fruits of legalized gambling?" Deeks wondered. "What was this about? Betting on how much Matthew and Talia would hate each other?"

"No, we went to Messhall Kitchen last week," Callen explained.

"Matthew loves that place," Deeks said.

"The food wasn't the only thing he seemed taken by. We saw Talia and Bernhart sharing that banana cream pie thing they do. They were, uhm, well…."

"Canoodling?" Deeks found the word for Callen.

"I was going to say really close but canoodling works."

"So why does that get Sam an order of Messhall's Turkey Kale Chili? You saw they weren't at each other's throats."

"Nah, Callen didn't think you knew they were a couple. I thought you were smarter than that." Sam said, patting Deeks on the back.

"I fell in love with the woman I worked with," Deeks said with a smile. "I know the signs." And Matthew admitted to Deeks he really liked Talia after about a week of working together – 'she could be my Kensi, Martin' was his confession after a month. Since Matthew was not someone to fall that hard and that fast in the past, Deeks knew Matthew was all in too.

Wanting to change the subject, Callen asked "Is anyone else coming?"

"Kensi texted me from LAX that she and Nell were waiting for the valet to bring them the Audi."

"Kensi's using a valet for long-term parking?"

"I just had the Audi detailed last week, Mr. Hanna. I asked Miss Blye specifically to use a particular lot and to tell the valet that I sent her. Guarantees the Audi is in a secure location and that NCIS could have instant access to it if need be," Hetty said. As always, she more appeared than entered the room. "Lieutenant Deeks, so very good to see you," Hetty smiled as she greeted Deeks.

"Good to see you too Hetty," Deeks said and actually meant it. That morning's conversations aside, he wouldn't be where he was now without Hetty. "That would explain why Kensi didn't want a ride to the airport."

The door to the boat shed opened again and this time a large man in a dark suit walked in carrying a briefcase. Taking out his badge, he announced in a slightly accent, "Deputy U.S. Marshal Eli Ben-Aharon. We met a few years ago."

"Of course, Marshal Ben-Aharon. Is Ms. Fitzgerald with you?"

"She is currently in our vehicle in your parking lot. It is a black Navigator," he told the group as he placed the briefcase on the desk. "She would like to talk to Agent Hanna and then Lieutenant Deeks individually and privately before any debrief will begin. Agent Hanna, Director Fitzgerald wants to see you first."

Sam nodded and made his way to the door.

"Why does she want to talk to Sam and Deeks?" Callen asked.

"If the Director wanted me, or you for that matter, to be part of her conversations, we would be currently sitting in the SUV. Instead, I am here with you and Agent Hanna is with Director Fitzgerald," Eli replied as he pulled out a laptop and started working.

"Any idea why she wanted to see Sam before me?" Deeks asked.

"As she does in times like this, she decided to see you two 'alphabetically by height' and then chuckled to herself."

"That doesn't make sense," Callen said.

Eli linked his computer to the boat shed's plasma screen. "But it amuses the Director and life is better with an amused Director."

"Do you know anything about the case?" Callen asked.

"Yes," Eli replied before returning to his work.

"And you're not sharing because life is better is also better with a happy Director," Deeks added.

"If she wanted me to do the briefing, I would be doing the briefing instead of preparing for it. Though I was told there would be several other women operatives here besides Miss Lange."

"Hetty," she corrected.

Eli nodded his head. "Of course, Miss Lange."

The door opened with Kensi walking in followed by Nell and Mosley. "Hey babe," Kensi said to Deeks with a big smile.

Deeks loved that big smile. "Hello dear," he said giving her a light peck on the cheek.

"That's it? We've been gone for a week and all you have is 'hello dear'?" Nell teased.

"He has a lot more than that, don't cha, babe?" Kensi teased.

"I'm calling in an HR violation," Callen threw up his hands in mock disgust.

"Well, I don't work here anymore so that shouldn't be a problem," Deeks said with a smile before turning his attention elsewhere. "Good afternoon, Executive Assistant Director Mosley. I've brought a permission slip to prove my attendance here has been requested by an outside agency."

"Yes, Director Vance called me and said you were personally requested by Director Fitzgerald for this assignment. It is good to have you back," Mosley said warmly.

"On loan," Deeks noted.

"And on deck," Sam added as he returned to the group. "The Director will see you now. And before anyone asks, I'm good."

"Anything I need to know?" Deeks had a different question.

"The car smells like McDonalds," was Sam's reply.

"When tired, the Director food choices devolve to those of a 12-year old boy," Eli told the group without ever looking up from his computer screen.

"About the right size," Deeks joked as started to leave.

"The Director so enjoys the short jokes. Make sure you share that one with her," Eli said as Deeks passed by.

Deeks opened the door to the Navigator and Sam was right – the place did smell like McDonalds. "Eli said you eat like a 12-year old boy when you're hungry."

"Ate. Quarter pounder, no cheese, large fries with three ketchup packets and a diet Coke gets a girl feeling good, And none of it got on my clothes. So proud," Genevieve said, showing off her clean black polka dot Carolina Herrera sheath dress. "Another thing, don't In and Out burger shame me. I'll be here for a few days, they'll get more than their fair share of my inappropriate dining dollars."

"You can eat McDonalds anywhere. You're in LA, go Animal-Style."

"Duly noted. Good to see you, Deeks. Congrats on making Lieutenant. Nice to see LAPD has an eye for talent and is moving that talent along."

Deeks was pleased by the compliment. "I'd ask what brings you to my fair city but I'm pretty sure it is whatever case Vance was talking about this morning."

"The case is why I'm here. And it is cold and wintry in New York so this wasn't a hard decision to run this from somewhere where I'm dodging slush puddles. Back to the case though, it's why I needed to talk to you and to Agent Hanna before we start."

"What did Sam and I do?"

"Survived. You survived. So did Sam. What was done to you and Chief Hanna is more my concern. The case has some Russians involved. OK, a lot of Russians. One in particular – the target of the investigation – served under Isaak Sidorov when they were with the FSB. The two had a falling out but for years my target saw the FSB version of Sidorov as an ideal."

"Sidorov is dead. Your target should realize how things end for that sort of ideal."

"And the world's a far better place with Sidorov in the ground. But my target had a falling out with his old boss because he didn't think Sidorov was committed enough to their work. Thought Sidorov's taste for the Western good life was a hinderance and made Sidorov soft. And that soft version of Sidorov is who was killed by NCIS. Not the FSB Sidorov."

"Sidorov was not soft. Any version of him."

"No. NCIS intelligence had an informant with KGB ties call Sidorov a 'disciplined psychopath' so with my target thinking Sidorov was soft, you can imagine what level of psychopath this guy is. It ups the level of danger the task force will face."

"OK."

"You were beaten and tortured by a man my target believes wasn't properly committed to violent and abusive behavior to achieve an end. Are you going to be good with this?"

"I'm a professional," Deeks started.

"And that's why I thought of you for this assignment. I am, however, perfectly fine with you walking away. I'll take care of whatever requests you have at the DoJ and put you back in the hopper for future assignments. I don't want you or Agent Hanna feeling you have to work a case where you think you're defending your professionalism or courage or manhood or whatever. Surviving what you did – no questions about your professionalism or courage from me."

"I've worked cases with and against Russian operatives in the last five years. Hell, I've been to Russia. I'm good."

"I've been reading about your new assignment. You're more than good. That's my other concern with you, Lieutenant."

"I'm a multiple concern guy?" Deeks was almost proud.

"You've been running your own show for a while. You've been separated from OSP for a while. Are you going to have a hard time working with your former teammates? Maybe taking orders from them again?"

"Nope. Director Vance and I already had this conversation."

Genevieve nodded. "Yes, I spoke with Leon coming in from the airport. He said you'd be good to go with NCIS."

"Did he say anything else?"

"You were 'notably frank' – his words, not mine – about your time with NCIS and that should serve the task force well."

Deeks smiled. "I think that's your answer."

"Seems to be but isn't everything. Are you going to have a hard time taking orders again from someone like Chief Hanna or Henrietta? You're currently giving orders now. I don't want LAPD and OSP getting into some sort of inter-agency spat. I don't have time for that."

"First, I think we'll all be taking orders from you," Deeks noted.

"True," Genevieve said.

"But I'm also taking orders from others now. I run a team, not LAPD. I answer to Roger Bates. As long as the orders given are legal, I'm good," Deeks said. "Any other questions?"

"I'm sure I'll think of some down the road but right now, I'm good if you're good."

"I'm good."

"That's all I needed to hear. And I'll tell you what I told Sam. Anything bother you in this case, you tell me and we'll figure something out."

"I am good, Director. I've been good for a while."

"That's why I picked you years ago and that's why I want Milo back."

"Milo?" Deeks smiled, remembering his old undercover persona.

"There is an art component to this case. Let's get inside and I'll explain it all to the team."

x-x-x

Deeks and Genevieve made their way to the boat shed. Eli was at table still working on his laptop. The NCIS staffers were chatting among themselves.

As Deeks returned to Kensi's side, Genevieve walked up to Mosley. "EAD Mosley, good to meet you." Genevieve said, extending her hand. "I'm Genevieve Fitzgerald, head of the Honos Project at Homeland and DoJ."

Shaking her hand, Mosley said, "Honor to meet you, ma'am. I've heard so much."

"Please, it is Genevieve. And I'm sorry one and all about the Saturday meeting. I'm sure this is not how any of you wanted to spend your day off."

Eli walked up to Genevieve and handed her the presentation clicker. "Ready to go, Director."

Genevieve hit the clicker and started he debrief. A person-of-interest bullietin appeared on the plasma screen. "This is Dmitri Vanin. He'll be 40 in June and the hope is he'll be spending that day in a federal lock-up."

"I've heard of him," Callen said. "Former FSB. Works as a security director for the Russian officials visiting Los Angeles as part of the SBP."

"SBP? Like SPF?" Deeks asked.

"Protection yes, Mr. Deeks but not from the sun. I could give you the official translation but the SBP is Russia's Presidential Secret Service detail. They protect the Russian President," Hetty told the group.

"To state the obvious," Kensi said, "Putin isn't here."

"No but Putin has allies in the government who he will extend SBP protection as they travel. They have a man in New York, a man in London, a man in Paris, you get the idea," Genevieve used the clicker and a number of Russian ID's appeared on the screen. "And they are always men. Vanin is their West Coast man."

"Since these men all report to Putin, they are effectively the Kremlin's spies here, in New York, London and so on," Callen said.

"And they also spy on Putin's allies. Get them a little liquored up and make sure all is well in Putin's inner circle. More than one member of Putin's inner-circle was found on the outside looking in after a visit to a place like Miami or Rio," Genevieve confirmed.

"Do you think Vanin is spying?" Sam asked.

"Oh, I'm sure he is. They all are. Just as our government has people in dozens of countries doing the same. If this was the typical spy guy nonsense, the FBI would be paying attention to Vanin but I'd be home in New York working on other threats."

"So what is Vanin doing to get your attention?" Mosley asked.

"Shorter list may be what isn't he doing. In recent months, Vanin has been moving money from Russian coffers to outside and transferrable items."

"Diamonds?" Hetty asked.

"Diamonds, art, wine, drugs," Genevieve said. "Add in some arms dealing, we think some human trafficking, though that's the weakest part of our case, and some general theft and extortion plots. Since last fall, Vanin is a crime family all by himself. We're sure he's up to something but we don't know what so it has to be stopped and stopped now."

"How did he get to Los Angeles?" Callen asked. "These are usually jobs saved for older spies who are being rewarded for something."

"When the Russian Consulate was temporarily moved to LA while the San Francisco office was being upgraded – and by upgraded I mean all of the US spy stuff planted over the years ripped out and new Russian spy stuff put in - Vanin was sent in as the replacement chief of security. Seems there was a breach of their computer system during a party a few years back." Genevieve put up a photo of Ivan Delov.

"Oh, the old catering uniforms," Kensi said. "That was a fun party and fun breach."

"It was also the last U.S. party for Delov. He was returned to Mother Russia with a new assignment in Norilsk."

Callen shook his head sadly. "Not good."

"Norilsk?" Mosley asked.

"Mining town. North of the Artic Circle. Considered one of the most polluted cities in the world. Today's high is likely 17 below zero with a noon sunrise and sunset about now but in local time. Two hours of sun on a double-digit day below zero. Not the reassignment someone living for a decade in California would appreciate. He's now the head of security for the mining companies."

"Will the Office of Special Projects involvement in the security breach at the Consulate be a concern?" Hetty asked.

"No. Our spy guys in Russia report that Moscow credits the CIA with the breach. They also credit the CIA for the prison break that got a captured CIA Officer and a Russian expat out of some FSB run prison."

"All that hard work and the CIA gets the credit." Sam shook his head.

"Things ended badly enough for Officer Sharov that I'm sure the victory lap at the CIA was short," Hetty said.

"How are we going to be involved in all this?" Callen asked.

"Vanin has grown in favor with his Russian bosses," Genevieve showed a small ranch home in Northridge. "Unlike many of the SBP security officers who have adapted to their decadent Western surroundings – their guy in New York lives in the same building where Derek Jeter lived when he was with the Yankees – Vanin lives in a condo in Northridge. One bedroom, one bathroom. He drives a four-year old hybrid SUV. Doesn't drink, doesn't smoke, no drugs or gambling, sends his salary back to his sister and her family north of Tuapse."

"Toupee?" Deeks joked.

"They're teachers at a state run school," Genevieve started to explain.

"Orlyonok," Callen provided.

"Thank you for saving me from butchering that word. It is a year round camp for smart kids from all over Russia. They're junior high school or high school age kids. Vanin's sister and brother-in-law are teachers."

"Doesn't drink, smoke, what about women?" Kensi asked.

"Or men?" Deeks added, remember Kirkin.

"Married young. She was killed in one of the apartment building bombings in Moscow in September of 1999. He was moving up in the FSB, she was a pediatric nurse in the Russian Children's Clinical Hospital. The few people who we've been able to talk to about Vanin say that Irina was really the only proof he was human. He was and is cold and clinical about everything else in his life but he could not do enough for Irina."

"So our target has a weakness and she's dead," Nell said.

Genevieve nodded her head. "Exactly. The CIA threw women at him when he got set up here. Nothing. Threw a guy or two as well – nothing. Seems to have one love – Mother Russia. And anything he can do to make Russia more powerful and the US unstable, he's happy. It makes all the money moves recently worrisome."

"So how do we get to him?" Sam asked.

"Arrogance," Genevieve told them. "The Kremlin has made it clear, he's their best and their brightest. He's the foreign security officer ideal. Their guy in New York. Not a fan."

"You flipped him?" Callen asked. "The New York SBF security officer?"

"The US Attorney's Office in New York, which is technically my home base, was investigating a call-girl scandal a while back."

"Emperor's Club?" Deeks remembered that scandal from his time in New York.

"Eliot Spitzer was Client 9, Aleksei Gregor was Client 27," Genevieve put up a photo of a rather large man in his tighty-whities dancing with a young blonde wearing expensive matching bra and panties with a million dollar diamond necklace.

"Oh, I can unsee that," Nell said, covering her eyes.

"I've been living with it for a decade – enjoy." Genevieve laughed. "Aleksei has been most helpful over the years. He wants asylum. His time with the SBP comes to an end this year. He ages out of his role and would prefer a Manhattan retirement to life back in Moscow. If he can take down Vanin as he defects…"

"He wins," Sam says.

"He's enjoying the decadent American lifestyle," Genevieve told the group. "He actually is a smart guy – Masters degrees – plural – in agriculture, international relations and computer sciences. Wants to teach at Harvard."

"And you're an alumna," Hetty noted.

"Yes I am. Though according to them, I'm not nearly generous enough when it comes to the school. Perhaps a gift of this guy," Genevieve clicked on another photo of Gregor, this time sipping champagne in a fluffy robe on a large bed, "is in order."

"All this is fascinating, and you can take your Russian friend off the screen at any time," Mosley made it a point to turn away from the plasma. "So what is the plan for OSP to arrest Vanin? And why has this become a priority?"

"Vanin is upping his criminal behavior. We don't know what he is doing, we just know he's doing something. OSP long has the reputation of taking down these sort of operations before they can truly begin."

"This is what we do," Sam said with some pride.

"Agent Hanna is a certified sommelier, as is his longtime legend Charles Duncan," Genevieve hit the clicker and an older photo of Sam appeared in a black suit, shirt and tie standing in a large wine cellar.

"Mr. Duncan has been in France for several years working on his craft," Hetty told the group.

"Mr. Duncan is about to return and take over the management of the Elite Cellarage," Genevieve explained.

"In Silver Lake?" Sam was familiar with the establishment.

"Yes and you'll be happy to know that Mr. Duncan has owned a delightful little cottage in Silver Lake Heights. Been renting it for the last few years but now he's coming home." Genevieve passed Sam a folder.

"Nice," Sam said as he looked at his temporary new home.

"Elite Cellarage was the wine storage facility of choice for Isaak Sidorov and a few other delightful souls. When Sidorov began his stint in Hell, my division took a long look at Elite. Got an accountant in there and a few months later, it stopped being a front for terrorist and criminals hiding their money and started being a front for DoJ/Homeland looking for terrorists and criminals hiding their money."

"Does Vanin have wine stored there?" Sam asked.

"Yes, wine he's stolen from other facilities or private collectors. He likes getting his hands dirty when he knows he can't be caught." Genevieve put a security photo of Vanin sneaking into a different wine facility dressed as a repairman.

"But you know he stole the wine, isn't he caught?" Mosley asked. "You could arrest him now."

"All I'd get is him recalled back to Moscow if I pushed the State Department to expel him for trespassing. Nobody ever reported the wine stolen," Genevieve explained.

"Why not?" Kensi asked. "If you're storing wine in one of those places, it isn't a $12 bottle of white from Ralphs."

"One of his targets was a movie producer out here involved in an awful divorce from wife number five."

"Six, Director," Eli interrupted. "Wife number six."

"My mistake. Wife number six is about to be ex-wife number six."

"Five, he married the same woman twice," Eli said.

"Again, my mistake. Anyway, about ex-wife number three or so, the producer started hiding his money with wine purchases. Same with a jeweler in Beverly Hills who is moving some diamonds for an Armenian businessman in less than legal and ethical ways but in quite profitable ways for both men. When this is all over, those two men and a few others will get a visit from the Homeland, the DOJ and of course the IRS."

"Ill-gotten gains are still taxable," Deeks noted.

"Just ask Al Capone," Genevieve said before turning her attention back to the case at hand. "We believe Vanin is looking to sell some of that wine for a crew he's putting together to rob an art exhibit. In recent years, the Russian underground for stolen art has been highly profitable."

"The Downtown Arts Exhibit," Hetty figured.

"Yes. They have a Klimt, a Kahlo and a Kandinsky along with two Jackson Pollacks pledged for the event. There will also be some non-big name art there that has some real value. And then there will be a Milo."

"A Milo?" Nell asked.

Genevieve pointed to Deeks. "Milo."

"The greatest artist that almost happened," Deeks said with a false, wistful tone.

"The head of the FBI's New York Art Division paints all of Milo's pieces in my garage on Long Island beach house after polishing off about half a bottle of wine."

"Seen the place," Deeks whispered to Kensi. "The garage is bigger than our house."

"Let me guess, modern art, Director Fitzgerald." Hetty said, obviously not a fan.

"Crap is a better term but the gallery my office was investigating in 2009 didn't care about art, they were moving drugs and trafficking women. They were just looking for stuff to put on their walls while the back office did their true work."

"Deeks was undercover as an artist?" Callen asked.

"Oh yeah," Deeks said with a smile and fell right into character. "And Milo needed to make sure everything was hung with care by people with the right auras and energy fields to properly enhance each piece's inherent power."

"Oh Lord," Sam said, shaking his head.

"I feel negativity over here," Deeks walked up to Sam and made circles with his hands in front of Sam's face. "It is draining the power of the creativity in my soul."

"Why don't you move your creativity over toward Kensi," Sam told Deeks. "Let her be your muse."

"That's actually the role I had in mind for Agent Blye," Genevieve took a folder and handed it to Kensi. "Half muse, half patron."

"Oh, Deeks is going to be a kept man," Nell teased.

"You think that makes money on its own, Agent Jones?" Genevieve said with a smile as she pointed to the still-Milo Deeks. "Agent Blye will be Willow Tyler Warren – old Texas money, only child. Blowing through one of her numerous trust funds supporting Milo's career."

"What else do you need from our group, Director?" Hetty asked.

"I'd like to co-opt Agent Jones as my liaison with the team and with my people. I'd also like you, Agent Jones, to just review all the points of the case we have going on. With arrests planned in numerous cities of these Russian SFB agents for other crimes, I'd like to make sure there isn't a gap or gaps in our case."

Nell smiled. "Of course."

There was some noise at the boat shed's door. Eli had his gun out as did Sam and Kensi when the door opened.

Genevieve looked down the hall. "They're with me. Well, they're with the Marshal's office doing a favor for me."

The Marshals brought in a handcuffed and feisty Arkady Kolcheck. "Callen, Sam. Oh look, Deeks, you're back. I have missed you."

"Put him in the Interrogation Room there," Genevieve said. "I need to talk to him."

"Oh, hello Genevieve Fitzgerald. I did not see you there, so tiny and all. I do not like that Interrogation Room. Like you, tiny."

"In," Genevieve pointed to the Interrogation Room. "Now."

"I can sit here," Arkady started to make his way to the coach but Eli's firm hand in Arkady's chest stopped any movement "I can sit there," Arkady turned around and pointed to the couch with his handcuffs. "We are all friends here. We are free to talk."

Turning to the Marshals, Genevieve said, "I want you to take him to the federal lock-up downtown and put him in a 72-hour hold. The minute the clock starts, call me. I'll be in to question him in 71-and-one-half hours."

"Oh, no, no, no, no. No reason to do that. It is the weekend. Everyone loves the weekend," Arkady said. "I will sit in your teeny-tiny little room. It will be uncomfortable for me but that is how far I am willing to go to help with whatever matter may need my assistance."

"Oh Arkady, what have you done?" Callen asked.

Arkady turned to Callen. "There was some confusion…"

"Interrogation or downtown. Now," Genevieve said.

"To quote our former governor, I'll be back," Arkady said as he hurried to Interrogation. The Marshals opened the door and Arkady went into Interrogation.

"If you were wondering about your assignment Agent Callen," Genevieve said.

"Yeah, I figured that." Callen shook his head. "I should have learned my wines."

"Is there anything else you need, Director?" Mosley asked.

"Eli will have everyone's full legends, access to your new homes and vehicles. Agent Callen, if you don't mind observing my questioning of Mr. Kolcheck. I assume everything he is going to tell me will have the aroma of truth covering a good deal of mendacity."

"And a healthy heap of evasion," Callen added. "Of course, I'll be right here."

"And Lieutenant Deeks, an extra lawyer in the room always makes me feel good."

"Of course."

"The rest of you, thank you for allowing me to ruin your Saturdays. If Vanin has something big planned, we need to wrap this up quickly. We need to stop him." Turning to Deeks she said, "Let's go be lawyers at Mr. Kolcheck."

-30-

* * *

Thank you all for the kind notes about chapter one. This is the best fandom in the world.


	3. Morally Corrupt People

**Chapter Three:** "Don't judge. Morally corrupt people are my business." – Arkady Kolcheck

* * *

Deeks opened the door to the Interrogation Room. Genevieve was just behind him, thanking the Marshals for their time and allowing them to return to their Saturdays.

As Deeks walked into the room, Arkady stood and gave him a bear hug. "Deeks! It is so good to see you. Please tell me you are here to rejoin our friends at NCIS." Whispering in Deeks's ear, "I do not like the little one with Kensi. She is too much like Henrietta for her own good."

"Or your own good," Deeks noted.

"Mr. Kolcheck, sit down," Genevieve said as she joined the men. "And take your hands off Lt. Deeks. There will be no inappropriate touching during this interview."

"There will no touching of Director Fitzgerald at all," Eli said as he entered the room carrying an iPad. "You sit on that side of the table. You do not stand up. You do not go near her."

As Arkady went to speak, Genevieve put up her hand. "Mr. Kolcheck, sit down. Or Eli will sit you down and if Eli sits you down, it may take an EMT to get you out of that chair when our time together is over."

"Touchy," Arkady said with his hands up. As he stepped backwards to his chair he added, "I did not mean touch touchy, just that everyone seems so on edge." Arkady sat down with his hands flat on the table.

Eli handed Genevieve the iPad. "I will be outside." Pointing to Arkady, he ordered, "Do not get out of that chair without the Director's permission. You will not be warned again."

Watching Eli leave, Genevieve smiled and sat down on the "good" side of the table. "That is not a man you want angry at you." Turning her attention to the iPad Genevieve asked, "Mr. Kolcheck…"

"Arkady," he said warmly. "All my friends in law enforcement call me Arkady."

"Mr. Kolcheck, I am not your friend. Are you familiar with case number 8:257T 9S2G1 3515 from the U.S. District Court, Central District of California?"

"All those numbers and letters – it sounds like one of those passwords your computer likes instead of easier to remember ones."

"You mean like Katia007?" Genevieve asked as she continued to swipe through her iPad.

"How do you know that?" Arkady demanded.

"Oh, I know many things. One thing I know is that case number I gave you, it should be familiar to you Mr. Kolcheck or do you have so much outstanding business in front of the District Court here that you can't remember a $14 million tax evasion case."

"What?" Deeks was surprised. "Arkady, where did you get that kind of money?"

"I do not have that kind of money," Arkady assured Deeks.

"You don't?" Genevieve asked. "Because I have a statement here signed under oath that you sold a formerly distressed property in the Hollywood Hills for a $14 million profit. Were you lying in your statement then or are you lying now?"

"No, it is not that simple."

"Actually, it is quite simple. You failed to pay taxes on $14 million of profit on a home you bought for the suspiciously low price of $400,000." Genevieve looked at Arkady. "As per your agreement with the government, you paid both your city and state taxes immediately to avoid any more interest and fines but worked a deal with the Feds."

Arkady looked at Deeks. "Was clerical error."

"Forgetting to put in a 1099 for an old savings account with a couple of thousand dollars into Turbo Tax is an accounting error. Forgetting $14 million gets you sent to jail," Deeks explained. "How are you not in jail? I'd be in jail"

Genevieve nodded in agreement. "I'd be in jail too but of course I pay my taxes not only because it is the right thing to do but the IRS likes finding wealthy and/or famous tax delinquents to arrest around April 1st every year. Remind the rest of the taxpaying public if Leona Helmsley or Wesley Snipes are going to be an unwilling guest in the federal penitentiary system, so are you if you don't pay up."

"No, seriously, how are you not in jail?" Deeks asked.

"Mr. Arkady is a man with interesting friends."

"I am. And so you know, I consider both of you my friends."

"Again, not your friend, Mr. Kolcheck. Now, according to this agreement you signed, you were given time to pay off the taxes owed to the federal government without interest as long as you both made a good faith effort to repay your debts and you provide assistance to federal agencies."

"And I have helped FBI, CIA, NCIS whenever they asked. I gave them information about Isaak Sidorov…"

"Isaak Sidorov was dead three months when you signed this plea deal," Genevieve told him.

"See, I do things because they're right, not just because you have an agreement," Arkady was proud of his assistance.

"Not an agreement, a plea bargain and a plea bargain that could end when the court is told you are not either paying the back taxes in a timely fashion or cooperating with federal law enforcement agencies."

"I provided information about terrorist Ivan Karposev. Terrible man."

"Karposev had Anna because you stole a tanker full of oil." Deeks reminded Arkady.

"Stole a tanker full of oil," Genevieve repeated. "There's a series of words one rarely hears strung together. And Anna would be your daughter, correct?"

"There was some confusion about the oil's ownership and that confusion nearly cost me my beautiful daughter. And if you remember, I went to prison to help save you," Arkady pointed to Deeks. "All of you," he pointed at the camera in interrogation.

"And NCIS spent several million dollars in an off the books rescue with the help of the Navy SEALs. Taxpayer's money to save someone who does not pay his taxes," Genevieve said.

"I've paid some," Arkady said defensively.

"You own over $5.5 million. You've paid $813,000 and made no payment in 2018."

"I've had some cash flow issues."

"The only thing you're going to have is a commissary account at Lompoc if I don't get your full, immediate and total cooperation. Are we clear?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Tell me what you know about Dmitri Vanin," Genevieve said. "And if you say 'who?' I'll call the judge overseeing your tax case. Tonight. At home. And I will make damn sure the interest clock on the nearly $5 million you owe starts in 2013 starts ticking."

"You'll owe more in interest than in back taxes pretty damn fast," Deeks told Arkady.

"No need to make any calls," Arkady said as he put his hands up. "I am here to help."

"When was the last time you spoke to Dmitri Vanin?"

"And remember, there may have wiretaps on phones," Deeks figured he maybe save Arkady from a perjury charge.

"Monday. He called. Wanted to go to dinner."

"LA Prime? Mastro's? BOA?" Deeks asked.

"Chili's in Encino," Arkady answered. "It would not have been my first choice but the Honey Chipotle ribs were surprisingly tasty."

"Make sure you tell Yelp. Have the two of you ever eaten before at a moderately-priced, casual restaurant?" Genevieve asked. "Or met at any other location for any other reason?"

"Met? On purpose? No. He would just appear from time to time needing help finding a more appropriate restaurant not in the Encino Commons. Other times he might be interested in a poker game or a club specializing in women dancing in various degrees of undress."

"You recommend strip clubs," Genevieve wanted to be clear.

"I do not judge."

"Anything else?"

"From time to time he needed help with questionable purchases…"

"Drugs?" Genevieve asked.

"No," Arkady was strong in his denial. "I am interested in as many revenue streams as possible but I cannot and will not tolerate drugs."

"So you do judge," Deeks noted.

"There is no judge there. Only wrong."

"What were some of the questionable purchases?" Genevieve asked.

"Exotic meats."

"Excuse me?"

"He enjoys goat meat, yak sausage, elk and emu burgers as do many of his visitors. Emu – filled with iron."

"Good to know he's eating elk when not enjoy some baby back ribs. What did Vanin want?" Genevieve asked.

"He had the spicy shrimp tacos, actually," Arkady folded his hands. "He told me he needed to liquidate some items for cash and wanted to know if I had some trusted associates to work with him on a special project."

"Did he give you a reason for needing the money?" Genevieve asked.

"Or about the special project," Deeks asked.

"No, he did not, nor did I ask him about this plans. Vanin is not a man you ask unwanted, probing questions."

"What is he looking to sell?" Genevieve asked.

"He has a wine collection. He is looking to move it."

Genevieve lifted an eyebrow. "The entire collection?"

"What is the signs you see in bankrupt stores? Everything must go. He is clearing out his collection."

"What is he looking for in a trusted associate?" Deeks asked.

"Men comfortable with guns and taking orders."

"Is he looking for Russian ex-pats?" Genevieve asked.

"No, actually he's looking for Americans. Former military, no drugs, no drunks, no problems and most importantly, no questions."

"What did you tell him?"

"I needed time and it would be an expensive proposition," Arkady said. "He said the wine sale would pay for the trusted associates."

"With you getting a finder's fee," Genevieve said.

"A man can be paid for his time and efforts."

"And you didn't think you needed to call your friends at NCIS to share this?" Deeks asked. "Callen is going to be very hurt. I'm very hurt and I've only known your for like the last ten years. Callen has known you forever. You should have called."

"Or maybe, as per your agreement with the IRS for the criminal non-payment of taxes, you would have contacted your handlers at the FBI or the Department of Homeland Security," Genevieve said, folding her arms and leaning back in her chair. "Tell me Lt. Deeks, if you had an informant who owes millions of dollars in fines and the attention paid to restitution of said millions was negligible, what would you if the informant was not forthcoming about a meeting that seems to be quite interesting?"

"I was gathering information," Arkady assured Genevieve.

"For Vanin or for the people who have generously not charged interest for your evasion of taxes?"

"For you. For America. Vanin is not the first person to approach me with pie in the sky ideas. It is my responsibility to decide what is a threat and what is the vodka talking."

"No, Mr. Kolcheck, that is the Department of Homeland Security's job. Your responsibility is to forward all suspicious conversations to your handlers. Especially since this is not some drunken ramblings of some former KGB officer, this is a current member of the SBP."

"And I am informing you now."

"After you were handcuffed and dragged in here," Genevieve noted.

"Here being a room where you didn't want to sit," Deeks added.

"I am happy to sit here with you and recount every minute spent in with Dmitri…"

"Dmitri?" Deeks mused. "That seems friendly."

"He is not a friendly man. But as we were in a casual restaurant, he wanted to speak casually."

"Did he think he was being watched?" Genevieve asked.

"With that man's head, I have no idea what goes on in there," Arkady tapped his temple. "Whatever it is, not anything I want in my head."

"When do you expect to hear from your pal Dmitri again?" Deeks asked.

"We are meeting for breakfast Tuesday morning."

"Another piece of information that should have been passed on to your FBI and DHS handlers," Genevieve said with a sigh. "Where?"

"The International House of Pancakes in West Hills," Arkady told them.

"Of course," Deeks said shaking his head. "Russian spies and Belgium waffles."

"Your pal Dmitri does love his chain restaurants," Genevieve said.

"Don't knock the Rooty Tooty Fresh and Fruity Pancakes," Arkady said with a smile. "An underrated American classic."

"So you picked the restaurant this time," Deeks said. "You need to wear a wire."

"No wire. Vanin is a professional."

"We can figure something out," Genevieve said. "What time is the breakfast?"

"Ten. I am not a morning person."

"I want you here at seven for a full briefing. There will be a plan for you and you will follow it to the letter. Am I understood?"

"Sometimes things in the field…" Arkady started to explain.

"To. The. Letter."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Walk yourself to that Starbucks a few blocks from here and call yourself an Uber home," Genevieve ordered.

Arkady shook his head. "The Marshals…"

"If I have to call the Marshals back to drive you, I'll have them drop you off someplace you may not like. Someplace where I can guarantee you won't miss our briefing."

"Starbucks or three hots and a cot, Arkady," Deeks said. "Get an Uber."

"Always happy to help my friends," Arkady quickly jumped up and high stepped to the door. He also moved with some speed to the boat shed door. "Eight o'clock Tuesday morning."

"Seven. If you're not here at 7:01 you're in violation of your agreement," Genevieve said. "Don't make me arrest you."

"He's a pip," Deeks said with a smile once Arkady was gone. 'Pip' was his mother's favorite terms for friends like Ray – charming weasels.

"Pippy Fraudstocking is going to have an inmate number if he's not of a mind to cooperate," Genevieve said as she stood.

Deeks was amazed to watch her work her iPad and walk in what had to be four-inch heels on the boat shed's slightly uneven floor as she returned to the building's main room. A bigger surprise was seeing nobody from the team left during Arkady's questioning.

"So I'm going to be Arkady's man comfortable with guns and taking orders, who has a military background with no drugs or drinking issues."

"No," Genevieve said with a sigh. "You're perfect for the part Agent Callen but I'm sure Vanin's responsibilities here in the US included paying attention to someone like Arkady. He is likely aware of you."

"Would Vanin be aware of Kolcheck being brought into custody?" Mosley said. "After the show he put on here, I'm guessing he did not leave his home quietly."

"No. The FBI has someone very close physically to Vanin," Genevieve started to explain.

"How close?" Hetty asked.

"Neighbor."

"Very Sharon Carter," Sam said.

"They do chat near the office where residents can pick up their packages from Amazon and what not. Mostly talk weather and exercise. He likes to go hiking, she likes to swim. We have him at O'Melveny Park right now," Genevieve swiped her iPad again and photo appeared of Vanin in cargo pants, a grey tee-shirt and baseball cap with a black fleece jacket at the entrance to the park. She sent it to the plasma.

"I don't remember seeing cameras there," Deeks said. He and Kensi liked an occasional bike ride at the park.

"Come on Lieutenant, there are cameras everywhere," Genevieve said.

"Which means there could be a camera on Arkady's place," Callen said.

"There was a sweep before I got here. A suspicious car near Arkady's house caught DHS's attention. It was there on and off all week. Driver went out to take a leak just before Arkady was taken into custody. The car was towed when the driver 'abandoned' it," Genevieve threw air quote around abandoned. "As best we can tell, the driver is a P.I. Arkady's neighbor is some young guy from a Netflix show. He's having an affair with the producer's daughter, much to the chagrin of both the producer and the daughter's husband. The husband is looking for photos."

"Gotta love LA," Nell snarked.

"He's in bureaucratic hell trying to get his car back."

"I can tell you LAPD can lose a car with the best of them," Deeks assured the group.

"A full search of Kolcheck's home shows no listening devices – which was a stunner to about every agency I deal with.," Genevieve told the group.

"I'm a bit surprised myself," Callen said.

"Well, Mr. Kolcheck is in for his own surprise. He'll get his Maybach back when the government gets a tenth of the money he owes in a bank transfer or a certified check."

"And he won't get that back until at least Tuesday with government offices being closed Monday." Kensi said.

"Pretty much guaranteeing he'll be around Tuesday for the meeting," Deeks said.

Genevieve nodded in agreement. "Agent Callen, I'd like you to check in with Mr. Kolcheck early Tuesday morning to make sure he's here at 7AM."

"How early?" Callen asked.

"Whatever the most annoying time possible would be for Mr. Kolcheck."

"Five to five sounds good to me," Sam joked.

"It's going to sound awful to Arkady," Hetty noted.

"I need Mr. Kolcheck to understand who is running this show."

"Oh, I think he's going to have that figured out when his fancy car is gone," Nell said.

"Are you bringing in Scott and Stonebridge as the men Arkady recommends?" Kensi asked.

"No. They're working a different part of this case. They're in an undisclosed location working with some human traffickers. They're looking for the people Vanin is trying to get in."

"Going well?" Hetty asked.

"No. For all his rude and inappropriate talk about women, Scott has a pretty decent moral core and what he's seeing, what he and Stonebridge are seeing…horrifying. Scott was acting out last night and that's why I missed our meeting Lt. Deeks. Someone needed a good talking to."

"That bad?"

"It is awful. Doesn't mean Scott can act out but it is awful. The only thing I have working for me is that Stonebridge and Scott are making sure their documentation on this one is as good as it has ever been. They want to see everyone they've talked to in an official capacity go to jail and then go to hell when they die. My concern is Scott may speed up the death and hell part."

"I may have someone for you, Director" Sam said. "Byron Brown."

"Oh, that's good," Deeks said.

"Very good," Kensi agreed.

"I'm unfamiliar with Mr. Brown," Genevieve said. "What agency does he work for?"

"Byron is former Special Forces. Works for Kulinda Tactical Security."

"I am familiar with them," Genevieve said.

Sam continued. "Byron was put in an untenable position a little over a year ago. His wife and kids were held hostage while he was ordered to assassinate a businessman. William Bradford."

"Very familiar with that case."

"Kulinda took back Byron but he's having a hard time regaining his security clearance. The government is dragging its feet as it reviews his actions in the Bradford case."

"Not much to review," Hetty said. "A man is always going to protect his family."

"And his cooperation with the federal government helped secure charges against the wife of Bradford's business partner," Mosley said.

"Byron is only working certain jobs because he can't get his security clearance back."

Eli joined the conversation. "And with high profile events like the Grammys or the Oscars seen as security threats where any private security has to pass strict background checks…."

"Byron is currently guiding wealthy young actors or pop stars through the airport to keep them away from TMZ or babysitting the children of tech billionaires on class trips."

"Terrible waste of talent," Hetty said shaking her head.

"I can help with the security clearance if you can promise me Mr. Brown is not a risk," Genevieve said.

"You have my word that Byron is righter than rain," Sam assured Genevieve.

"Your word is more than enough in most cases but Eli will have to do a full search," Genevieve said.

Eli was back at his laptop nodding his head. "I've been working on it since Agent Hanna mentioned Mr. Brown, Director."

"If Brown is all you say he is, and I'm sure he is all you say he is Sam, he'll run point with Vanin. I'll find a few good men to be the rest of his crew," Genevieve said. "In the meantime, I'd like you all to move into your undercover assignments tomorrow. There should be everything you need in the homes you are being provided. Agent Jones, where I'm staying has a small guest house. Would you be amenable to relocating there for the duration?"

"Psst, Nell," Deeks said with a stage whisper. "Small probably means three bedrooms, two baths and a home theater."

"Agent Jones should be comfortable in the guest house if she chooses to stay," Genevieve said. "Eli usually stays at the guest house when we're in the field together but it seems I'm getting the full security treatment this time out."

"I insist," Eli said without a hint of humor. "You have Mr. Brown's background and his legal issues from the fall of 2017 with the kidnapping of his family on your iPad."

"Thank you."

"Is there anything else we can do for you, Director?" Mosley asked.

"No. Well, Agent Callen, if you hear from Mr. Kolcheck tonight…"

"Oh, I'm sure he'll have a few things to say," Callen said.

"I don't need a verbatim," Genevieve said smiling. "Just a good recap of his thoughts, his mood and his tone."

"You took his $200,000 car. I figure his mood will not be sunny."

* * *

Early Sunday morning, Kensi and Deeks walked into the Barker Block two-bedroom loft owned by Willow Tyler Warren, Kensi's undercover assignment. The loft was filled with a lot of expensive art as well as Milo's works. Milo's oeuvre was an assortment of multi-color splattering on different colored canvases. Pointing to one piece on a dark canvas, Deeks announced, "I call this one Technicolor Midnight."

"Exactly how annoying is Milo?" Kensi asked, looking at the high-end furniture around the living room. "And how uncomfortable do you think that couch is?" The couch had what looked like rock hard red cushions for sitting and a straight metal black back. The pillows on either end of the couch were cement gray.

Looking at the black metal blocks around what was obviously the dining room table, Deeks said, "Think of it as furniture as art."

"I like the art of our couch better," Kensi said, walking toward the kitchen. "Fancy appliances but the kitchen does look like it is made for normal humans."

"This is a nice physical space, furniture aside. Not as nice as where Nell wound up…."

"You're jealous of that two bedroom guest cottage at the house where the Director is renting? Color me surprised," Kensi teased as she returned to the living area.

"Genevieve is paying a month what we paid last year for our mortgage. I will never forgive Bertie for not being rich."

"Your mother is rich in personality and in her love for you. Money comes and goes. Your mother is a sweetheart."

"A poor sweetheart," Deeks whined, though he knew his mother was everything Kensi said and more. "Why couldn't Willow be a beach girl and not an arts district girl? Nell would love this place. If anyone is a downtown person, it's Nell."

"And you are more a boy in the 'bu kinda guy," Kensi said with considerable affection.

"Yes I am. And that's a great name for a painting." Deeks tried to flop down in one of the chairs only to find the cushions weren't very soft. "Do you think the bed is comfortable?" Deeks asked. "Or even a bed and not some cement slab with a pillow? Singular pillow?"

"I don't know," Kensi said, smiling. "Wanna take it for a test ride?"

"You miss working with me," Deeks teased.

"I do," Kensi was serious. "Nell's amazing but you're my partner. In everything. Hetty wants you back. You have a standing offer."

"You're my partner too," Deeks said. "And Bates told me Saturday morning I need a partner. You have a standing offer too."

"I think we're killing the mood," Kensi said, shaking her head sadly.

Deeks wanted a happy Kensi. "Are you ready for the full Milo experience?" Deeks stood, returning Kensi's earlier smile. "For when art and beauty collide, you can only begin to comprehend the world of Milo."

"If you ever want to see me without my clothes on again, you need to stop talking like Milo."

"Milo seeks nothing more than the art and beauty of you, Willow," Deeks walked up to Kensi and kissed her. "Milo can also find other things to do with his mouth besides talk." He bent down and lifted Kensi over his shoulder. "Now if Milo could only find the bedroom."

-30-


	4. Proper Aim of Art

**Chapter Four:** "Lying, the telling of beautiful untrue things, is the proper aim of Art." – Oscar Wilde

* * *

Kensi and Deeks walked into the boat shed at 6:50AM. Both were wearing workout gear. Callen was dozing on the couch while Genevieve was working on her computer.

"Callen gets naptime?" Deeks asked.

"I got a call at 2:55AM. Seems Mr. Kolcheck had a burner phone or six in his home. He was on one according to a security expert I have watching him. Since Mr. Kolcheck was given specific instructions not to use Facetime, Skype or any non-tapped phones, Eli decided to pay him a visit. What I didn't know was Eli called Callen to work security until he's back. Callen was sitting at the breakfast bar when I got up this morning to hit the treadmill."

"And I'm not napping," Callen made clear without ever opening his eyes.

"That's his resting ninja face," Kensi noted.

"Why did Eli go?" Deeks asked. "He rarely leaves your side."

"Eli is not a fan of Mr. Kolcheck."

"Do they have history?" Kensi asked.

"Not that I'm aware of," Callen said, still not opening his eyes. "Ben-Aharon called me and asked to provide security for Director Fitzgerald while he made it clear to Arkady that if he ever expects to see his Maybach again or even the Super Bowl out of a federal pen that he will do exactly as he's told."

"And one of the things he was told was to be here at 7AM. He's got six minutes," Genevieve said looking at her watch. "How is the loft?"

"The furniture outside of the bed is rather uncomfortable," Deeks said.

"The place came furnished. I can move some other..."

"The furniture is fine," Kensi said, dismissing Deeks's complaint. They spent most of the prior two days in bed or in the kitchen so they really never tried the couch again. "So are the clothes."

"Well, Willow's daddy's money isn't going to spend itself, to paraphrase that phone commercial."

"Milo loves the cashmere," Deeks said with a smile. "The cashmere envelopes Milo's personage and gently caresses his body and soul."

"He's been doing this all weekend," Kensi said with a sigh.

"Milo got paint on the cashmere last time. Milo shouldn't do that again," Genevieve advised.

"Noted."

"You were painting in cashmere, Lt. Deeks?" Hetty was stunned walking into the boat shed.

"No, the gallery had a dumpster behind the building and there was a freak out about some missing paperwork - the wrong kind of missing paperwork. I checked out the dumpster."

"In cashmere?" Hetty was appalled.

"Tuesday was trash day," Deeks remembered. "And even though I got some red paint on my sky blue cashmere vest, I also got some receipts that were useful."

"True," Genevieve confirmed. "And I'll gladly swap out a $600 cashmere vest for receipts for a storage unit being used to house meth lab chemicals."

The boat shed door flew opened. Arkady ran in and announced "I am here. I am not late."

"Where's Eli?" Genevieve asked the panting man.

"He is parking the SUV."

"He was texting me during your ride here. Eli does not text and drive," Genevieve fumed. "Want to try again, Mr. Kolcheck?"

"I was parking the SUV," Eli said as he walked into the room. "Mr. Kolcheck jumped out of the moving vehicle as we got close to the door. He did not bother to put the SUV into park prior to exiting the vehicle. That was left for me." Eli glared at Arkady. "From the passenger seat."

"Having second thoughts?" Callen finally opened his eyes and looked at Genevieve.

"No, my first thoughts about this were worrisome. That hasn't changed."

"I want my car," Arkady said. "You have no right to steal my car."

"Your car was not stolen, Arkady," Callen said.

"And you owe millions in back taxes. Be grateful you didn't lose your house. If there aren't payments made in a time fashion, you will lose both the car and the house," Genevieve warned. "And should I mention the use of a burner phone early this morning, a direct contravention of the instructions you were given."

"Please don't," Eli said, waving his hands. He mouthed "tell you later."

"How am I expected to attend this meeting today without my car?" Arkady tapped Callen's legs. As Callen moved them, Arkady plopped down on the couch.

"How did you get here today?" Genevieve asked. "Eli, what was the moving vehicle Mr. Kolcheck departed before he jogged in?"

"Late model Lexus SUV. Maybe two years old," Eli said as he moved behind Arkady.

"The Maybach is someplace safe and once you provide the money the Marshal's Office requires and you complete your responsibilities to me, you will be told the location of the vehicle," Shaking her head, Genevieve added, "And a Maybach is not the most common vehicle seen in the Encino IHoP parking lot."

The boat shed door opened again. Eric walked in wearing long, dark khakis, a blue apron and a red IHoP polo shirt. "Hi, my name is Bill," Eric pointed to his name tag, "and I'll be your server today. Who wants coffee?"

"This isn't your first time waiting tables, is it Bill?" Deeks asked.

"Applebees. Senior year of high school through junior year of college. Worked my way up from bus boy to host."

"Yeah, you look like a host," Callen joked from the couch.

"The other server working today are is from the local FBI office," Genevieve explained. "Mary was told to steer Arkady or Vanin to Eric's section. If there is a problem, I didn't want some poor civilian picking up a paycheck dealing with Arkady and a possible terror suspect."

"Makes sense," Hetty said.

"Mr. Kolcheck. Did you review the materials Marshal Ben-Aharon brought you Sunday?"

"Yes. I do not like them."

"An opinion you shared with me on the phone Sunday night when you demanded the return of your car. Your dissent has been noted. Vanin asks for a crew - what is your suggestion?"

"Recently, I have issues with the IRS. I am concerned that some of my contacts have been compromised. I would not want to damage our friendship or your plans with my tax problems."

"Excellent. When he asks for any other assistance, anyone you know who can move diamonds, drugs or wine, your recommendations?"

"No drugs, I am involved in many things but I will not help with drugs," Arkady said firmly. And truthfully.

"Diamonds or wine?"

"Diamonds. I can use my contacts back in Russia. There are always people there looking to shore up their international finances."

"And wine."

"You are in lucky my friend, Dmitri. Charles Duncan has returned from Paris. When Svletlana and I were ending the mistake that was our marriage, Charles was able to..." Arkady seemed to be searching for a word, "safeguard my hard-earned American dollars from that woman's shark of a lawyer."

"Well done, Mr. Kolcheck," Genevieve said with a smile. "Keep up your cooperation and I may send a kind note to the IRS."

"It won't help," Callen added.

"True, but on the odd chance you do any other illegal actions," Genevieve explained.

"Perish the thought," Hetty said.

"A letter about your help in a terrorism case is never a bad thing to have in your file."

"Especially a letter from you," Deeks added.

Eli clamped his hand on Arkady's shoulder. "Do one thing to damage this case and my teenage daughter will be driving your Maybach through Alphabet City while you fill out dozens of forms and sit in bureaucratic limbo."

"I am here to help!"

"Don't be late for breakfast," Genevieve told Arkady. "And don't let everyone in this room down."

"I am your man. I enjoy working with my friends."

"Don't greet Eric as a friend," Callen reminded Arkady as the larger man pried Eli's hand from his shoulder.

"See you in Encino," Arkady said as he stood and walked to the door. "And then I get my car back."

"Soon as the money is at the IRS," Genevieve called as Arkady high stepped his way out of the boat shed.

"That was fun," Eric said.

"What was this?" Genevieve asked Eli, imitating his hand movements. "Why was he using a burner phone?"

"Phone sex," Eli said, shaking his head.

"No," was the response from Callen, Hetty, Kensi, Deeks, Eric and Genevieve.

"He has security cameras in his home. With audio. The woman's name was Vladlena. She showed up around 4AM feeling frisky," Eli shuddered.

"TMI, TMI," Eric said.

"They cuddled on the sectional couch and watched "The Notebook" on DVD until they both fell asleep"

"Of course they did," Kensi said

"Yes Miss Titanic," Deeks whispered in her direction.

"I woke him up at six so he'd make the meeting," Eli said.

"While this is all entertaining, what is the status of Agent Hanna?" Hetty asked.

"Agent Hanna started as the head of Elite Cellarage yesterday. I met with his friend Mr. Brown yesterday as well," Genevieve answered.

"How did that go?" Kensi asked.

"Mr. Brown is now the new head of security for Elite Cellarage, overseeing the transfer of wines and providing security as needed. He's also someone looking to replace some of the money he's lost since the entire debacle with Bradford-Livingston."

"So Sam could move the stolen wine..."

"And Mr. Brown would be part of that transaction and offer this services to Vanin for any a fee. And I have an office full of people working on getting Mr. Brown his security clearance back," Genevieve pulled a black kit out of her Louboutin tote bag. "As for you two," she said, turning her attention to Kensi and Deeks.

"Willow and Milo are seeing the exhibit space today and deciding what works of Milo capture the aura and mien..."

"Yeah, we get it," Callen said, cutting Deeks off.

"Most, but not all, of the paintings at the exhibit are forgeries."

"No," Kensi was shocked.

"There is a forger in New York who is serving a 12-year sentence at home as long as he paints what the FBI's New York Art Division wants, when the Art Division wants."

"And you and Linda are friends," Hetty added.

"Linda?" Kensi asked.

"Linda Clement, the legendary head of the FBI's Art Division," Hetty told the group.

"The women in law enforcement sisterhood is small in New York," Genevieve explained. "The three paintings that aren't forgeries are the two Jackson Pollacks and the Frida Kahlo. Photos of the paintings have been sent to your phones," Genevieve explained.

"Trackers?" Kensi asked, pointing to the case.

"I'm on the hook if they're stolen. I would prefer not to be the owner of three stolen masterpieces worth tens of millions of dollars. The best way for me not to be out the gross national product of a small foreign nation…."

"Make sure those paintings aren't stolen," Deeks said.

"So smart," Genevieve said with a smile. "These do not go on the frames," she said, holding up a small black tracker. "Frames can be removed. They go on the back of the canvas."

"How?"

"None of the big ticket paintings have been hung. A small group of donors paid a great deal of money to watch them be mounted tonight while they drink wine and eat finger food."

"Thank you for my invitation, Genevieve," Hetty said. "In recent years, my access to such events has dwindled."

"Well, the comeback starts tonight. It is also not out of the question for someone with your background, known and suspected, to attend an event like tonight's party. You're also back-up if Agent Blye and Lt. Deeks are unable to tag the paintings."

"Milo is a very touchy-feel artist," Deeks explained. "Milo can get the job done."

"Milo or Willow need to place the tracker firmly on the back of the canvas shiny side away from the painting."

"I remember," Deeks said.

"Shiny side out," Kensi repeated.

"Linda can give you a full description of the special adhesive that is on the non-shiny side that is some sort of sea barnacle glue that does not damage the painting but stays stuck for three months."

"And me?" Callen asked.

"You're my plus one for the party, Mr. Callen," Hetty said. "An evening of culture, fine wine and dill pickle salmon skewers will do you the world of good."

"Is Milo attending?" Callen asked.

"No. Milo and Willow are viewing the room that will hold his art earlier in the day," Kensi said.

"Milo will have worn out the staff by then," Deeks said proudly.

Genevieve nodded in agreement. "Milo was good at that in New York."

"Anything else I should know?" Hetty asked.

"Yes, I took Agent Jones to dinner last night and we ran into Keith Morrison," Genevieve sounded a little sheepish.

"Who?" Callen asked.

"The 'Dateline' guy," Kensi told him.

Shaking his head, Callen said, "Nothing."

"Come on Callen, 'oh that pesky DNA' guy," Deeks did his best Keith Morrison.

"He hosts a true crime show on NBC."

Callen just shrugged.

"Do you know him?" Kensi asked Genevieve.

"I had a super small part in the Aldrich Ames case back in the 1990's. I gave a background interview to him years ago for a 'Dateline' he was doing on spies. He stayed in touch over the years. Crime is his business too."

"He wanted to know who Nell was," Hetty said. "Any good reporter would want to know why a New York based prosecutor was in Los Angeles and who she was visiting in Los Angeles."

"And she became an editor at Simon and Schuster. She's now working with me on a book proposal."

"I'll start on a legend before I leave for Encino," Eric said.

"My office is working on it. Jane Harrison in Simon and Schuster's non-fiction division knows me. I called her this morning - zone times work on this one. Nell is now Eleanor Francis, freelance book editor. Where I'm staying has a guest house so Nell is going to set up camp there."

"That house has a lot more than a guest house," Callen commented.

"That it does. Agent Callen, you're more than welcome to join Eli and I in our surveillance van. Eli's Russian is stellar and we're taping the conversation for a translation transcript but another good Russian ear would be greatly appreciated."

"Of course," Callen agreed. "NCIS currently employs a food truck to for surveillance."

"We have a FedEx truck but maybe doubling up for tonight's event at the gallery makes sense."

"See you this evening Director," Hetty said to Genevieve. "And Mr. Callen, I expect my plus one to be dressed properly."

"Wouldn't want to disappoint with art crowd."

* * *

"Fairly comfortable truck," Callen commented as he sat in one of the four captain chairs before the surveillance screens in the FedEx truck.

"I've seen the food truck set-up in the past but to make that work, you still have to keep the grills and fryers. All this truck needs is the boxes," Eli pointed to the ceiling where netting held up a number of different size FedEx packages "to cover what we really do here."

"And this vehicle idea goes back to when the New York's office biggest problems were mobsters and the drug trade on Wall Street. A FedEx truck in lower Manhattan fits right in and with Amazon and E-bay, they now fit in everywhere."

"Kolcheck just arrived," Eli pointed to a screen showing the parking lot.

"Vanin is right behind him," Callen noted.

"He's not going to screw this up, is he?" Genevieve asked Callen.

"No. There is a lot of work that goes into dealing with Arkady but he always come through for NCIS."

On the screen, Arkady leaves his Lexus SUV and walks up to Vanin as he exited his Nissan Pathfinder.

Arkady and Vanin share hellos in Russian. Eli provides a running translation.

"His Russian is good," Callen said to Genevieve. "So are the mikes on this truck."

"Can't wire every place," Genevieve said with a smile. "Not that we're not trying."

As the two men walked into the IHoP, Eli hit several controls on the console. Six different angles of the rather empty restaurant appeared on the screens.

"I hope they can find a seat."

On screen, Eric walked up to Arkady and Vanin. "Good morning gentlemen and what a fine morning it is. Is your entire party here?"

"Yes. No booth, no window," Arkady said.

"Of course, I'm Bill by the way," Eric looked around the restaurant and found a table near the kitchen. "Table 17 by the kitchen work for you gentlemen?" Eric asked. As the two men nodded, Eric brought them to their table. He left the menus but quickly returned with coffee.

Eli hit the feed for table 17.

"I get the windows, that's an old New York mob rule, but why would Kolcheck be against a booth?" Genevieve asked Callen.

"Tight fit for Arkady and if there is a need to leave in a hurry," Callen explained. "Arkady has left places in a hurry in the past."

"Makes sense."

"Vanin is talking about Arkady finding a crew for him."

"And Arkady is complaining about the IRS stealing his car and how he had to pay to get his car back. The man has a gift," Callen said. "He's telling Vanin he's worried about the IRS being involved in his life and he's not going to damage his relationship with his friend Dmitri by possibly offering trusted associates who could be corrupted by the IRS."

"Corrupted by the IRS? Unbelievable." Genevieve shook her head.

"Vanin is grateful that Arkady is being so cautious. He always trusted Arkady in the past when it came to confidential matters. He now has a growing appreciation for all Arkady has done for him."

"Eric, take their orders please," Genevieve asked.

Eric interrupted the love fest. Arkady ordered the Rooty Tooty Fresh 'N Fruity Pancakes with strawberries, telling Eric to be generous with the whip cream. He also ordered two glassed of orange juice with a side of bacon, hash browns and toast. Vanin ordered an egg white vegetable omelet.

"That egg white omelet sounds good," Eli mumbled.

"Eric, after Mr. Kolcheck and his guest leave, could you order an egg white omelet to go. Agent Callen, are you interested in anything?"

"I'm good."

"A breakfast sampler for Agent Callen since he didn't eat at my place this morning."

"Vanin has someone to move his diamonds," Eli returned to translating.

"Dammit," Genevieve said. "We need someone monitoring any money coming in and out."

"He's probably selling to one of the cartels," Callen said. "They have the money and the diamonds can be used to move other product."

"Arkady is singing the praises of Charles Duncan who helped save his fortune from ... I don't know that word."

"She-wolf. He managed to both praise and curse Svetlana with that term while they were married."

"Delightful," Genevieve sighed.

"He's asking Arkady if Sam would give him a list of who bought the wine," Eli said.

"So he can steal it back. Amazing," Callen said.

Genevieve agreed. "Well, now we have to make sure Vanin sees Mr. Brown at Elite Cellarage."

"What are the chances he'd want to steal the diamonds back?" Eli asked.

"Something Byron could suggest," Callen said.

"Excellent idea," Genevieve said.

"Vanin has moved the conversation to meat," Eli said.

"Emu burgers?"

"Ostrich," Callen and Eli said simultaneously.

"And they're having that conversation at an IHoP. God bless America," Genevieve said.

* * *

Kensi pulled the Porsche Cayenne into the gallery's underground parking lot. "You ready for this?" she asked Deeks.

"Oh yeah, Milo is fun," Deeks said with a smile. "Do you have the trackers?"

"Shiny side out," Kensi said as she pulled the slim case from her tan leather pants

"Listen, Milo can be an asshole."

"The constant third person Milo was a hint."

"No, but I'm afraid is going to come off as bullying and treating you badly and that bothers me."

"We've done this before. God, we were barely working together when we did that jerk money guy and poor Darcy, his weepy assistant."

"Yeah, it's different now."

"Because we haven't done this for a while? We'll be fine."

"Because you're the only thing that matters to me and treating you like garbage bothers me."

"You're not treating me like garbage. Milo is going to treat Willow like trash and Willow may remind her kept man that she doesn't appreciate it. Trust me."

"Always," Deeks said. "It is going to be fun back in the field with you."

"We had this conversation Sunday before we decided to stop talking about work and do more fun things. Hetty wants you back. I'm sure she's scheming to figure out how to make your return permanent."

"I haven't returned, I'm here on my own. LAPD was contacted about my presence in this case, not NCIS. And Mosley still runs the office, anyway."

"In name only," Kensi said dismissively.

"And that name fired my ass. Kens, we've had this conversation for months. You're not moving on this and neither am I and we're just kicking this can down the road. So for today, please know I love you more than I ever thought it was possible to love someone and anything I say to you as Milo I don't mean, I'll never mean and I will spend the rest of my life proving that to you."

"You're perfect, you know that."

"Milo knows all," Deeks said with a smile. "Willow, come and see my passion hang on a wall for all of humanity to witness."

"This is going to be fun," Kensi said, leaning across the console and giving Deeks a kiss.

"Your passion is my inspiration, Willow, my muse."

* * *

Kensi and Deeks were walked past the locked main room where the Jackson Pollacks and Frida Kahlo to see the room where Milo's art would be featured.

"What is the lighting in this room?" Deeks demanded, his arms flailing about.

"LED technology," one of the gallery curators, Josefina de Ricardo said. "Every precaution will be taken to protect your work from UV and IR light."

"IR light?" Kensi asked, managing to seem bored but pretending to care. Deeks was impressed.

"Infrared light, Ms. Warren."

"Call me Willow, everyone does."

"Of course."

"I feel apprehensive about that wall," Deeks pointed to the wall on the far side of the room. "Please tell me the story of this wall."

"I'm sorry, the story of the wall?" Josefina was confused.

"What else has hung on this wall?" Deeks asked. "The history of the wall matters."

"This room is usually reserved for private showings or as a place where we hold our reserve..."

"So it's a storage room," Kensi said.

"Not storage, per se, more..."

"A room Milo can make my own," Deeks nearly twirled in the middle of the room.

"It is open to you, Milo," Josefina told him.

Deeks started rubbing the walls.

"What is he doing?" Josefina asked Kensi.

"He has a very strong, palpable relationship with not only his art but with how it is viewed. Don't ya' hun?"

"This wall, its history is speaking to me."

"Listen away darlin', listen away," Kensi called to him. "Josefina, do you have a nearby ladies room? A few glasses of champagne and some oysters for lunch means I'm gonna make a little piddle. Oh, that almost rhymes!"

"It is down the hall we just walked through and to the right. Please don't touch any of the art hanging on the walls."

"Oh no, that's Milo's thing. Actually, the only thing I like to touch is Milo," Kensi said with a giggle. "Darlin,' she called to Deeks. "I'm going to visit the little girl's room."

"Jocelyna..."

"Josefina," she corrected.

"Come and tell me about this wall. Its greatness is calling to me."

As Kensi made her way to the hall, she watched poor Josefina walk up to Deeks. "Are you in the security system?" Kensi asked Ops as she made it to the ladies room.

"I have you just walking to the bathroom. Once you're inside, wait for my all clear," Nell said over the comms.

"On it," Kensi said.

Kensi got into the restroom and looked at herself in the mirror. Willow's black, sleeveless silk blouse was nearly hidden by the gold necklaces and chains. She wore several bracelets around a Patek Philippe Twenty watch on her left arm, a solid gold cuff on her right wrist. Kensi wondered what Willow would have thought about the leather cuff she use to wear that reminded her of Don Blye.

"OK, Kensi, the security cameras are under our control," Nell told her. "All clear."

While the security feed showed empty rooms, Kensi made her way to the gallery's locked main room. With the universal keycard Eric supplied, Kensi was able to enter the room.

Each piece was under a lint free tarp. Using the map Hetty provided, she found the first Jackson Pollack and was able to place the tracker. The Kahlo was two paintings away and equally easy to tag.

Kensi heard a beep and realized someone was entering the room. She raced to the door, hiding just behind where it would swing open. A security guard held the door opened and looked around.

"Damn, now I'm hearing things," the guard said as he closed the door.

"Kensi, get out of there when you can," Hetty ordered.

"The hallway is clear. The guard is going back to desk. Looks like he was using the men's room and heard the door beep when you entered," Nell said. "Go now."

"I still haven't tagged..."

"It will be handled Miss Blye. Leave this task for Agent Callen and for me tonight. You've done more than your fair share. Get Lt. Deeks and get out of there."

"I can..." Kensi looked around the room.

"Now, Miss Blye."

"Of course."

"Go back to the ladies room, count to ten and then leave," Nell said. "They will have you going in and out on video."

Kensi raced down to the ladies room and waited for Nell's "go" before returning to Deeks. Waltzing back into the smaller room, she saw Deeks with poor Josefina with their backs against the wall, swaying.

"Darling, are you happy with the room? I just got a text from Aunt Henrietta, she's in town and wants to have tea. You know she owns those wells outside of Odessa and is looking forward to seeing some real art and not crews of men driving onto her property"

Deeks stopped swaying and looked at Josefina. "The wall speaks to me. It will be the perfect home for Wedding Day Rain. And of course there is time for Aunt Henrietta, a more generous patron an artist has not known." Deeks winked at Josefina. And maybe leered just a little.

Josefina was wildly uninterested.

Deeks walked over to Kensi. Taking her hand and kissing it, he sighed. "Oh, seer of my soul, lead me with graciousness and tenderness as you will. It is your love that nourishes my gift.

Kensi smiled at Josefina. "He's just a peach," she said. "I'm such a lucky girl."

"You two deserve each other," Josefina said as Kensi and Deeks departed.

* * *

Annoying author's note: Sorry for the delay. If you saw the rain during the Mets-Yankees ESPN rain delay coverage you'll understand getting around yesterday was difficult. Add in a few fallen trees, gale force winds and a ton a traffic – it was a late night (early morning) getting home.


	5. Attention and Direct

**Chapter Five:** "The easiest way to steal a man's wallet is to tell him you're going to steal his watch. You take his attention and direct it where you want it to go." – Leigh Bardogo, "Six of Crows"

* * *

"Director Fitzgerald, I'm surprised to find you here," Mosley said as she walked into Ops. Eric and Nell were sitting at their work stations. Genevieve was behind the work table, sitting on a high stool. "I thought you said you'd be happy working out of the boat shed. And where did you get that chair?"

"Good morning," Genevieve said, looking up from her laptop. "Eric remembered there were stools in your storage area and was nice enough to bring it up here. The collaboration table here is great but a bit tall for me even wearing these." Genevieve stuck out her Christian Louboutin Prive pumps. "Then again, most things are very tall for me."

"If you need office space here, I'm sure we can find someplace more appropriate."

"Just visiting. The boat shed is great but Eli is downstairs using your firing range and doesn't approve of a free-range me," Genevieve explained. "He decided he was unhappy with the weapons he has at the rental house. The Marshal Service agreed and provided a more significant weapon if he could show he was capable of handling it."

"And being former Mossad," Eric said putting video from the firing range on the big screen, "Marshal Ben-Aharon looks comfortable with the weapon."

"What weapon is it if you don't mind me asking?" Hetty wondered as she entered the room.

"M4A1," Genevieve replied. "Eli is downstairs with that video set up Eric also kindly provided, proving to the Marshal Service that he isn't going to shoot his foot or something equally embarrassing to the both the Marshal Service and to himself."

"M4A1, that's military grade," Mosley noted.

"Eli has security concerns about the house the Director rented," Nell said.

"I should have had you stay at the main house and kept Eli in the guest house. That's our usual set-up," Genevieve said with a sigh. "He's walking around all night showing me all the possible points of entry and possible defense scenarios," Genevieve shook her head. "Meanwhile, I'm trying to binge watch 'Sacred Games' on Netflix and not hear about the unacceptable distance between my bed and the safe room."

"Where are you staying?" Mosley asked.

"It is January in New York. Cold, slushy, dark all the time. Out here, I wanted to rent a place on the beach. Eli decides that's not safe and instead we're two blocks back, on a hill with one means of egress to a house that has a better video security system than the MGM in Las Vegas," Genevieve said, shaking her head. "I'm thinking of flying his wife and his daughter in for the weekend just so I can do some work without being CC'd on another memo being sent concerning the security flaws of the windows in the bathroom."

"You sound like an old married couple," Hetty said.

"I've been paired up with Eli longer than I've been married to my husband, so you may have a point," Genevieve said. "Eric, I just sent you the video from Agent Blye's after action report."

"What video?" Mosley asked.

"Unlike the party celebrating the hanging of the better known paintings at the Downtown Arts Exhibit day before yesterday, Milo's painting was hung by a crew sometime last night. Agent Blye sent an e-mail late last night – actually at 3AM this morning – of the event."

"Miss Blye sent me a text saying Milo insisted on attending his painting's mounting since he was not deemed worth of having his art included with the Pollack, Klmit and Kahlo. The party was wonderful, by the way, Director Fitzgerald," Hetty said. "Thank you again for the invitation. Even Mr. Callen enjoyed the food if not the actual hanging of the paintings"

Genevieve smiled. "I was thrilled you got the last Jackson Pollack LoJack'd. David Geffen sold it for $200 million plus in 2015. I can't imagine how much it would cost now. How did you tag the paintings?"

"The way I do most things," Hetty said with a smile. "Walk in as if I belong there, do what I plan to do and leave."

"It seems to be her way to go through life," Mosley said.

"We're ready to go, Director," Eric said as the video started.

Kensi's voice came over the video first. "Darling, I want to memorialize this moment. I'm so proud and Daddy will be too!"

In the video, workmen were unwrapping the painting from its protective cover.

There was sniffling in the background. Deeks could be heard whispering, "beautiful."

As the painting was set along the wall where it was going to be hung, Kensi called "Smile, fellas," to the workmen.

One workman turned his head to Kensi and did as she asked. The other gave Kensi a quick look and wave but immediately looked back at the task at hand.

"Eric, will you please run facial recognition on the workmen?" Genevieve asked.

"I don't know if I have enough for the man closer to Kensi."

"Try Mr. Beale," Hetty told him. "And cross-check it against the employees of the gallery, galleries and museums nearby. Several of the men mounting the art at the party were associated with museums lending the exhibit the featured paintings."

"That makes sense. Nobody wants a rookie carpenter with a nail gun making a $200 million mistake," Mosley said. There was noise in the video background. "What is that noise?"

"No idea," Nell said. Pulling up the video's metadata, she said, "Kensi filmed this after 1AM. I can't imagine there are too many other people in the gallery."

"According to her after-action report sent with the video, Agent Blye and Lt. Deeks were able to plant the extra security cameras throughout the gallery since they were there with just the two workmen and a security officer who Kensi brought an extra meal and pushed it as leftovers from their dinner at Broken Spanish," Genevieve said.

"Nice distraction for about $50 worth of lamb carnitas and some flan," Hetty noted.

"I was able to run a video loop of the gallery while the security guard was eating so Kensi and Deeks planted cameras in the gallery's exhibit areas, offices and work spaces," Eric said.

"The worker who smiled at Kensi's camera is Jeremy Irwin. He's worked for the Getty for the last 15-years as a master carpenter," Nell said. "He has a worked at every major art event in the city for the last decade."

"Milo is moving up in the world," Genevieve joked.

"Lives in Westwood. Has a wife who is a cardiac-care nurse at the UCLA Medical Center, daughter in college also at UCLA studying to be a dentist, son with an application in at LAPD who is studying criminal justice at Cal State Fullerton."

"Financials?" Mosley asked.

"Money looks tight but nothing out of the ordinary," Nell said. "The Irwins are sending a lot of money to the colleges, especially UCLA, but their mortgage is almost paid off and both kids will be out of school in a few years. 401K's look OK. There have been no big bank deposits in the last five years and no outrageous purchases outside a semi-pricey cruse to Hawaii and Tahiti for their 25th wedding anniversary."

"With the state of the modern marriage, any union lasting 25-years deserves a pricey second honeymoon," Hetty noted.

"The other workman?" Genevieve asked.

"Still looking,"

"What is that noise?" Mosley asked. "Something has to be going on."

It was as if Kensi on the video feed heard Mosley. "Oh baby, are you crying?" Kensi whirled the camera around to a weeping Deeks. "Milo, baby, is this your dream come true?"

"To be here with you, with Wedding Day Rain as it finds its rightful home with its fellow paintings," Deeks broke into a full wail as he started to openly weep. "Look at Wedding Day Rain!" Deeks had Kensi turn the camera back to the painting.

"What is he doing?" Mosley asked.

"He's in full Milo mode," Genevieve said laughing. "He was so out of his mind working as Milo in New York that rooms emptied when he was around. It made it very easy to plant cameras, look at files since he was clearing out whatever space he was entering."

"By making himself the frivolous center of attention, he becomes someone no one pays any mind," Hetty said. "Well done, Lieutenant."

A high-pitched wail from Deeks had the second workman look right at Kensi's camera. "Got him," Eric said as he paused the video. He restarted the facial recognition search.

"Well done, indeed," Genevieve said.

Eli walked into Ops with a large weapon case. "I am cleared to use the weapon," he told Genevieve.

"Like not being cleared would have stopped you," Genevieve said more to herself. "How many targets do we owe NCIS?"

"The Marshal Service is sending two boxes to the office's drop location," Eli said. "Thank you for the use of your firing range, Director Mosley, Ms. Lange."

"Hetty," she corrected automatically. "We can store the weapon in our armory."

"I'll keep it here, thank you."

On the video, Willow comforted the weeping Milo promising fame and fortune once his work was properly showcased.

"The shy workman is Victor Vylasek. Came to America as a child. His father Oleg worked as a carpenter-handyman-jack of all trades for the Russian Consulate in San Francisco, his mother Anna was the personal chef for the consulate general. The Vylaseks split when Victor was a teenager. His father got custody as his mother returned to the old country. Father and son moved to Los Angeles in 2000. Both became citizens over a decade ago. Oleg worked construction jobs, becoming a union carpenter. Victor graduated high school and started working in construction as well."

"Did they work for anyone in particular?" Mosley asked.

"Fenton Construction. Both of them worked mainly for Fenton," Eric said. "Both men are master carpenters."

"Fenton?" Genevieve asked.

"They are one of the biggest construction outfits in Los Angeles. They've worked on everything from LA Live and the Wilshire Grand to the Aon Center, shopping malls and apartment complexes 50-miles in every direction," Nell said.

"Father works for the Russian Consulate and then some huge construction projects. That's interesting," Hetty noted.

"Great way to know what's going on in Los Angeles in business, in private and in public, have your own people building where it happens," Nell told the group.

"Mr. Beale, I'm going to need a list of all buildings Oleg and Victor Vylasek worked on right away."

"Oleg Vylasek is in the Simi Valley Nursing and Rehabilitation Home. He suffered a fall on a job and broke his hip and several vertebrae. He's been there for nearly a year," Eric told Hetty.

"That has to be expensive," Nell said

"Those type of facilities usually are," Genevieve said.

"The union is currently playing for the rehab and the stay at the facility since he was on a job. There is also a lawsuit filed about unsafe work conditions," Eric told the group. "But there are night nurses who sit with Oleg Vylasek. The union isn't pay for that and there is no money yet from any lawsuit."

"That has to be expensive as well," Nell said.

"And if the younger Mr. Vylasek is paying for his father's care, who is paying the younger Mr. Vylasek?" Hetty wondered.

"There has to be some decent pay hanging even Milo's painting at 1AM but there can't be enough jobs like that every month to pay for private nursing care," Genevieve said. "Have there been any big cash infusions?"

"No," Eric said. "No cash out either."

"Where are the night nurses coming from?" Mosley asked.

"Small agency called Med Sestra in West Hollywood," Eric answered.

"Medsestra is Russian for nurse," Hetty said.

"Based on their billing practices, they don't take a lot of clients with Medicaid, Medicare or any other government aid," Nell said.

"The staff probably has more than its fair share of undocumented home health aides or nurses looking for off the books money," Mosley said. "Is Jeremy Irwin's wife an employee?"

"Based on the hours she works at UCLA," Eric said, "I can't imagine she has the time. But I'll check."

"I think Victor is an early suspect for Vanin's man inside the gallery," Mosley said. "Vanin's financial footprint makes it logical he's an all-cash employer."

On the screen, Deeks's Milo was kissing first Ingram then Vylasek on both cheeks, grateful they were part of making his dreams come true. He then gave Kensi's Willow a passionate kiss, explaining to the men how his muse is his dream come true.

"A man of many dreams," Nell joked.

Kensi walked into Ops, dressed in her own clothes. "Willow got a call from the Josefina de Ricardo yesterday. After she told me the time the painting was being hung, Willow was told Milo is no longer allowed to speak to Josefina and must refrain from touching the walls or anything hanging on the walls. Including his own painting."

"Bet she calls today about kissing the workmen," Eric said with a smile.

"The full Milo," Genevieve said laughing. "Give him a week and they'll evacuate the place as soon as he enters the building."

"Where is Mr. Deeks?" Hetty asked.

"He got a call from LAPD this morning. Matt and Talia had a big score last night on an undercover operation they're working. Deeks is just going over the paper work before LAPD arrests everyone involved in whatever those two were working. Then he's going to take Milo over to the gallery and spend the afternoon staring at his art work and likely crying."

"The full Milo," Nell said laughing.

"It's been a fun week," Kensi said. "No offense Nell."

"None taken," Nell said sincerely.

Eric's computer beeped. "Sam just sent me a text. He is meeting with Dmitri Vanin at 11AM."

"Is Mr. Brown there?" Hetty asked.

"Byron Brown started working for Elite Cellarage yesterday." Genevieve said. "Already oversaw the transfer of nearly half-a-million of wine from their vaults to a private residence in Malibu yesterday. I should have his security clearance returned by the end of today but we're keeping that out of any database until the case is over."

"Then we're in business," Mosley said.

* * *

The security and hidden cameras showed Sam's office from a number of angles. Sam sat in a black leather chair behind a large white marble desk. Byron Brown was sitting in one of the two guest chairs across from him. Both men were wearing expensive suits - Sam's black with a bright dress white shirt, Byron's charcoal grey with a pale blue dress shirt. Neither man wore a tie.

There was a matching marble table for six in the corner of the room with a light grey mini-kitchen. Expensive glassware was stored in a cabinet above a 24-bottle wine refrigerator. The walls were painted a deep burgundy with expensive framed photos of vineyards on the walls.

The glass wall behind Sam's desk included a sliding door to a small patio area with a table and chairs as well as another cabinet with both glassware and a wine refrigerator.

"I'd certainly store wine there, if I owned any," Kensi said in Ops to nobody in particular.

"If you're going to ask people to store hundreds of thousands of dollars' worth of wine, Miss Blye, you are going to have to present a certain image."

"Walking into the head sommelier's office are the glass storage units for some of the clients who are looking to flash their wealth and taste," Genevieve said. "Behind the little patio area is a much larger warehouse where the assortment of tax evaders, alimony cheats and general weasels have their stash."

"What happens to them?" Eric asked. "You can't let them get away with…."

"Have you met the Director?" Commander Rehme asked as he popped up on the big screen. "Her Department of Justice roots run deep. Especially the justice part."

"Good to see you Commander, the office is connected to Agent Hanna's office."

"Yes ma'am. I also have Agent Gibbs on with an audio feed in case our Vanin breaks into Russian."

A young woman appeared on the screen entering Sam's office. "Mr. Duncan, a Mr. Vanin is here to see you. He's a few minutes early for his 11AM."

"Is she with us?" Mosley asked.

"Claire Miller, FBI. Forensic accountant from the Bozeman, Montana office. Zero chance Vanin would have her on his radar," Genevieve said. "She's putting together the financials the IRS and family court cases for after we close down this place."

On screen, Vanin walked in wearing a gray sports coat with a white shirt and black slacks.

Sam jumped up and walked around his desk. Offering his hand, he introduced himself. "Mr. Vanin, I'm Charles Duncan, it is a pleasure to meet you."

"You too," Vanin said.

"Can you turn that up please?" Genevieve asked, troubled by something.

"I am in the process of contacting all of our clients," Sam said. "Say hello, offer whatever services the client may need. I want to assure everyone that I am here to help facilitate every aspect of their wine ownership experience. Buying, selling, arranging wine tastings – we want to do it all for our clientele."

Byron coughed.

"Of course, my apologies Byron," Sam said. "Mr. Vanin, this is Byron Brown, Elite Cellarage's new head of security. I've known Mr. Brown for years during his time as a top-flight security professional. Just thrilled to have him on board."

"Mr. Vanin, good to meet you. Please know that Mr. Duncan and I are here to service your every need."

"That is good to hear because I find myself in need of some assistance. Mr. Brown, if you don't mind, I would prefer to meet with Mr. Duncan privately," Vanin said with only a trace of an accent.

"Is there something wrong with the audio?" Eli asked.

"Beat me to it," Genevieve said.

"What's wrong?" Eric asked.

"We've got hours of tape on Vanin and he sounds like an educated Boris Badenov," Eli answered.

"Who?" Nell asked.

"I'm so old," Genevieve commented. "Rocky and Bullwinkle? 'Moose and Squirrel'?"

"Yeah, nothing," Nell said, shaking her head.

"Nothing for me either," Kensi said.

"While the Director being older than most of the staff is always endlessly entertaining here in our office, why isn't he speaking like Drago from 'Rocky IV'?" Rehme asked.

"That one I know," Kensi said.

"Me too," Nell agreed.

On the big screen Byron walked out of the office and Sam offered Vanin a seat. Sam walked over to the kitchen area and returned to his desk carrying a tray with a bottle of Pellegrino water and two glasses. After opening the bottle, Sam did an elaborate pour and offered his guest a glass. "I'm not one for coffee in the morning. Ruins the palate for the day."

"Spoken as a man who sleeps well at night and doesn't need a boost to start his day," Vanin said as he took a sip of the water before placing it down on the small table between the guest chairs. He took his phone from his jacket pocket and set it next to his glass.

A hiss came across the speakers in Ops. "Switching over now ma'am," Commander Rehme said. Sound was returned to the office.

"Spoken as a man who treats his body to the finer things in life," Sam answered.

"He has a signal jammer of some sort on that phone to mess with any modern-day listening devices," Genevieve told the staff in Ops.

"So the office is hard wired with equipment used in the 1970's," Rehme said. "There is an honest to God microphone built into that table next to Vanin."

Vanin leaned forward in his chair. "I find myself in a situation where I am in need of some funding."

"If this is about your fees here, I'm sure we can work out a schedule where payments could be skipped for a few months. You have been a loyal patron…"

Vanin shook his head and his right hand. "No, sadly I find myself needing to liquidate a large portion of my collection. I was wondering if you knew of any possible buyers. What my collection lacks in size it more than makes up in quality."

"Of course. We have a long 'wish list' provided by some of our members just for times like this," Sam turned to the laptop on his desk. Pulling up Vanin's collection, Sam smiled. "I think I should be able to move whatever part of your collection you are willing to sell by close of business tomorrow."

Vanin pulled an envelope from the inner breast pocket of his jacket. Opening it, he handed the first of three sheets of paper to Sam. "These are the wines I'd like moved. I'm only looking for top dollar for any of them. My financial need is not such that I'm willing to accept below market value."

"You should not," Sam said. "I would not be doing my best for you as a client if I did not secure a proper price for your wine."

"I'd like these bottles shipped to Russia. My sister and her husband are coming on up an anniversary and I'd like them to enjoy a case."

"You are a generous brother, Mr. Vanin. I'll have these packaged and prepared for shipping tomorrow morning. I see you have Diplomatic ID's with your sister's address."

"Yes, that should expedite the transport of the wine."

"Agreed."

"Finally, I'd like to take a few bottles home for myself. Many do not believe Russian wine is worthwhile but I find the sparkling wines of Abrau-Dyruso to be quite delightful."

"Agreed. And the Alma Valley Merlot is an underrated gem," Sam offered.

"You do know your wines, Mr. Duncan," Vanin said with a smile. "This is an account where the proceeds from the sales can be deposited."

"Sam took a look at the paper. "Cayman National Bank. I've been here just a few days already executed several transactions with the bank. This should be done rather quickly Mr. Vanin."

"Excellent. And the Cellarage's take?" Vanin asked.

"After taking over the management, I found the ten-percent surcharge to be confiscatory for clients like yourself. Two-percent is more appropriate for a collection your size."

"Mr. Duncan, this may be the easiest sale I've ever had. Now about the sales, would I be able to get a list of buyers in case I wanted to rebuild my collection. Offer a better price than what they spent on the wine?"

"Here Mr. Vanin, I'm going to disappoint. I'm afraid just as I won't be telling my clients that you are the seller to guarantee your privacy, I am doing the same for the buyers."

"Of course. Just thought I'd ask." If Vanin was either surprised or disappointed, he did not show it.

"If there comes a time when you'd like to acquire some of the same wines or similar wines, you can provide me a list and I'd be happy to make inquiries about a possible resale. Or help you start replenishing your collection when your financial situation improves," Sam said.

"All I could ask for."

"Let me call down to have the wine you're leaving with brought to your vehicle. Mr. Brown, the gentleman who was just here, is currently doing a little bit of everything as he becomes familiar with our procedures. If you bring your car to the loading dock, Mr. Brown will be waiting for you."

Vanin stood and picked up his phone. As Sam stood, the two men shook hands. "Mr. Duncan, thank you for making this much easier than I thought it would be."

"While I love wine Mr. Vanin, I do understand that business decisions sometimes must be made. The quote may be the best things in life are free but I think you and I sadly know better."

"I look forward to doing business with you in the future Mr. Duncan."

Sam walked Vanin to the door.

"Can we switch to the loading dock area?" Genevieve asked. "And I need someone to tell Mr. Brown that Vanin Is coming his way."

"Switching now," Rehme said.

"Sam is calling with the wines Vanin wants back. Byron knows he coming," Nell said.

"Ma'am, I've taken Vanin's portion of the conversation with Agent Hanna and am running it through our tapes where we didn't think Vanin was speaking."

"Any matches must be sent to Agent Gibbs," Eli stated.

"Not if he's using his accent-less voice in English," Genevieve argued. "We can listen to him without a translation just as we listened here."

"Send them to Agent Gibbs anyway, Commander," Eli said.

"If we find anything, we'll send copies to you Director and to Agent Gibbs," Rehme said.

Kensi's phone chirped. "It's Deeks. LAPD is making arrests. He's on his way to the gallery."

Genevieve asked, "Would the two of you be able to review transcripts of any conversations Vanin had with his new voice?"

"Sure. I mean I shouldn't answer for Deeks but if they're making arrests tonight, it is all over except for the paperwork for Matt and Talia. I'm supposed to have a fitting for whatever gown you ordered for the Exhibit opening. I'm supposed to pick it up tomorrow. Deeks's suit too."

"Fine, Miss Blye," Hetty said. "We can do the fittings here and review whatever materials Commander Rehme finds tonight."

"Vanin just arrived at the loading dock door."

On the screen, Byron walked out with a large wine carrier. He placed the carrier next to Vanin's SUV backdoor. Opening the carrier, he showed Vanin the wine bottles inside.

"How would you like this secured in your vehicle, sir?" Byron asked.

"If you could put in on the floor in the back seat. The last thing I need is some silly young person texting and rear-ending me."

"Very smart. Driving here has always been an adventure."

"Mr. Duncan said you just started with the Elite. Where did you work before here?"

"I worked in private security after retiring from the Army Rangers. Spent too much time away from my family and thought private security would be a way to be home and be a good husband and father."

"Honorable choice."

"It was until there was a threat made to my family a while back and I made a desperate decision. It was the right one – I saved my family – but it cost me my career. Mr. Duncan knew me before he left for Paris. I was fortunate he was looking for a security chief."

"How long were you unemployed?" Vanin asked.

"Over a year. My wife works as a school administrator at our children's private school so we were able to keep them in school with only one income. Our retirement funds took a hit but I think getting back in the game means things are going to turn around for us," Byron said as he secured the wine in the SUV. "As long as I can provide a good life for my wife and children, give them the best lives I can, I'm going to be fine."

"Again, an honorable choice."

"Mr. Vanin, if you need anyone for weekend or night bodyguard duties, please feel free to give me a call here. Mr. Duncan knows I need to take on some side work."

"I will keep you in mind," Vanin said.

Byron handed Vanin his business card as he closed the SUV door. "Anything you need, I can do and what I can't do, I can learn."

"Good to know," Vanin walked to the driver's side of the SUV. "Would you be able to get me a list of the people who bought my wine? Mr. Duncan said no and I understand if you cannot as well but I might like to reacquire some of my collection and while I do not mind your firm taking a fee, I might be able to offer more the buyer in a direct sale."

"I'll see what I can do," Byron said.

"You will, of course, be rewarded for your work. And I am happy to keep this between you and me."

"Mr. Duncan works fast. I may have that list to you in a day or so."

"I think this could work out well for both of us, Mr. Brown."

"Byron. My Dad was Mr. Brown."

Vanin drove off with his wine.

"Why would want the names of the people buy the wine?" Eric asked.

"He's going to steal it back," Commander Rehme said from his office.

"And probably take a bottle or two of each buyers' best stock. Crafty bastard," Eli said. "My apologies to those I've offended."

"You've been working this case a long time Marshal Ben-Aharon, your feelings are understandable," Hetty said.

"I have Agent Hanna and Mr. Brown on video conference call from their conference room," Commander Rehme said.

"Put them on please," Genevieve asked. Once Sam and Byron appeared on the screen, Genevieve said, "Gentlemen, excellent work."

"How do you want this handled?" Sam asked.

"Tomorrow morning, Sam, call Vanin and tell him you're about to wire the proceeds from the sales to his account. Commander Rehme is working with Chad Walsh for the prices of those wine. We'll give you a 5-10% bump."

"Go for 10%, my friend Mr. Duncan is smooth," Byron said.

"Noted," Genevieve replied. "Mr. Brown, you should get a call from Vanin at some point. We'll give you a name or two. You can say those were the transfers you were directly involved with so there is no computer record of the info you sharing."

"That way he's not overly suspicious," Hetty noted.

"I would seem like a man looking for a few extra dollars but not risking my new job and the future of my family," Byron said. "I like it."

"Ma'am," Commander Rehme interrupted. "Something's off."

"Today has been off," Eli mumbled.

"Vanin's sister lives near Tuapse but the address he gave Agent Hanna was in Sochi," the Commander said.

"Sochi isn't too far from Tuapse," Eli said. Genevieve shot him a surprised look. "I know my Russian geography."

"Our systems here have the addresses about 80 miles apart," the Commander advised.

"Recheck the intelligence on the sister and the brother-in-law. I don't like this," Genevieve said.

"I don't like any of this," Eli said. "Bad intel on his sister, he's suddenly sounding like a California beach boy. This doesn't compute."

"Sam, Byron. Handle Vanin with care. We're not as buttoned up as we'd like to be here. Kensi, the same with you and Deeks. I don't have all my 'I's dotted and 't's crossed."

"And that's not how we work," Eli mumbled.

* * *

Deeks opened the door to the undercover loft. "Milo has entered the building," he announced before slamming the apartment door behind him.

"Crying Milo was a hit up in Ops today," Kensi said as she greeted him. Giving him a quick peck on the cheek, she asked, "How did things go with Matt and Talia?"

"I had both Matthew and Talia arrested and booked with the others. That got the targets talking to the DA's office a lot faster than we hoped. I got Matthew and Talia quietly released about an hour ago. They'll be doing paperwork and after action reports for the next week. I'm free to Milo without any office concerns from LAPD."

"Did you hear from Genevieve?"

"Commander Rehme actually. He admitted he was a little concerned about some surprises today."

"I'll fill you in but yeah, they were all a little on edge when Vanin showed up without an accent and their intel on his background was wrong."

Deeks plopped down on the uncomfortable couch. "That's not their style. Something is wrong."

"The Marshal, Eli, Nell told me he brought in military grade weapons for this one."

"Getting Genevieve hurt would not be a good career move for him."

"Seemed like more than that," Kensi said. "Enough work talk except to say I missed you today."

"We were together until almost three in the morning," Deeks said.

Kensi sat next to him, starting to snuggle and finding Deeks was more than welcome to her advances. "Want to find someplace ridiculously expensive to eat on Postmates?" Kensi asked. "I have Willow's credit card."

"Or we could get Roscoe's. I'm feeling more Deeks than Milo tonight. And wouldn't mind some time with Kensi and not Willow," Deeks said with a smile.

"Food first, fun later?" Kensi suggested.

"And how to tell Kensi from Willow," Deeks teased as he picked up Willow's phone from modern-style coffee table and hit the Postmates app.

* * *

 **Annoying author's notes:** Real life (actually work life) went to DefCon five for about two plus weeks. 15-hour days at work seven days a week for those two plus weeks left little time for anything but sleeping. The regular Sunday posting schedule should resume.

Thank you for your patience and concern. It was all work related.


End file.
